


Something New

by Measured, ZoisiteMoon



Series: Kidfic [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Bang Challenge, Community: longfic_bingo, F/M, Fatherhood, Fluff, Kid Fic, Kidfic (Fanverse), Motherhood, OTP Feels, Parenthood, Post-Game(s), Slice of Life, Unplanned Pregnancy, otp baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoisiteMoon/pseuds/ZoisiteMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the gravel wars and the robot wars, Scout takes on his biggest challenge yet: fatherhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RAXip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAXip/gifts).



> There's quite a bit of art associated with it, thanks to the contributions of many talented artists.  
> [here](http://multiversecafe.tumblr.com/post/76612148141/measured-and-i-are-collaborating-on-a-tf2-post-war) and [here](http://multiversecafe.tumblr.com/post/79677411319/scene-from-something-new-a-project-that), [here](http://multiversecafe.tumblr.com/post/84699147983/i-cant-sleep-and-havent-drawn-scouts-baby-since) and [here](http://scoutpauling.tumblr.com/post/66137310412/multiversecafe-scout-i-told-you-she-doesnt) were some of the original pieces done with the big bang.
> 
> There's art by Sicorey [here](http://sicorey.tumblr.com/post/91576752448/my-art-trade-for-multiversecafe-the-idea-was-to)
> 
> Hardhatsandbeecaves has done several pieces of as well on [this tag](http://hardhatsandbeecaves.tumblr.com/tagged/alice). Some are set more in his own universe, but others are a reflection of pieces of this story. As well as some random commissions I did [here](http://hardhatsandbeecaves.tumblr.com/post/124370800069/commission-for-yourunderwaterskies-of-vera#notes) and here [here](http://bowlersandtophats.tumblr.com/post/128144213553/commission-for-yourunderwaterskies-scout-dad).
> 
> There's more parts to come. Technically it's a fic verse, but I'm keeping it together like a chapter fic for organizational purposes.
> 
> Many of the scenes are inspired from Otpprompts prompts (or elsewhere) but the chapters are often too long to credit each one individually. To follow along on which ones, and see extra random baby vines and other things that inspired scenes or I just feel applies, there's [this tag](http://yourunderwaterskies.tumblr.com/tagged/alice-tag).
> 
> Editing and large-scale revisions was taken care of by high-roller-yunalesca/ZoiciteMoon, who did a truly astoundingly thorough job. Last I counted the google docs file changes was in the 800s. In fact, it was so thorough, she's now a co-author.
> 
> Later chapters contain characters who are owned by Bowlersandtophats, and are used with his enthusiastic permission. We basically adopted each other's OCs to a degree a while back and have been collaborating in various forms ever since.
> 
> This story also contains character names, given being post-series.
> 
> Miss Pauling: Sophia  
> Scout: Liam  
> Spy: Referred to as simply Spy as he has many names.  
> Scout's mother: Colleen  
> Heavy: Mikhail, often called Misha by family  
> Medic: Erich  
> Sniper: Mick (Based on the name on the figure)
> 
> Sniper really does send people bullseye sweaters, gift people bottles of his own piss with Smissmiss notes written on them, and send. The first two from from the Smissmiss cards, and the latter is an asset from the festives in the game.

_“A baby will make love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, bankroll smaller, home happier, clothes shabbier, the past forgotten and the future worth living for.” -Anonymous_

Prologue.

She always thought the scrapbook was a bad idea. After all, it gave ample evidence and her job was to destroy evidence, a habit she retained long after she’d left TF Industries.

But he loved it. He loved to look through it and keep pieces and parts of their time together. In fact he considered it one of his greatest treasures, even above his dog tags, even above the ball he'd caught from the last Red Sox game with his father, even above the Rosemary Clooney vinyl record he’d gotten from his grandma shortly before she’d died. Even with the somewhat overwhelming evidence of copious amounts of crimes they'd gotten into over the years, it still managed to stay. He was always reckless like that.

After the wars, pictures were donated from some of Spy's blackmail files. (Liam said he'd donate his fist to Spy's face for that one, though he'd yet to fulfill his promise.) The first few were taken around corners. They were pictures of a kiss obscured by bushes, of his hand slipping into hers, of their fingers laced together; of him standing too close in a group picture, his adoring gaze fixated solely on her.

The next photos were from years later, one of which had him grinning at the unseen photographer as he sat on the mangled remains of a particularly large robotic Heavy and held up its head as a prize.

Near the end of the first part was her in white lace, flowers braided into her hair and him pulling at his suit tie again, but looking jubilant. Thumbs up for her at the camera, a triumphant fist pump in the air for him after the wedding vows.

After that, there were many pictures of her at shaky angles: her looking up from a pile of bills, her caught in the middle of a sigh, her listlessly answering the phone, her reclining on the couch while on the verge of falling asleep, her pulling the purple robe closer around her waist. He was never the photographer Spy had been, as his hands shook too much from his constant nervous energy.

And finally, there was a picture of her swollen belly, which he was pointing to with both hands. He had a particularly smug grin etched on his face while she looked back at him with a mix of affection and irritation.

This would be the last picture of just the two of them. Sometimes she would linger at that one, the closing of that part of their lives, and her mind would go back to when it had all begun.

-Part One-  
_Something New_  


April 2nd, 1977. _A blurry Polaroid taken in poor lighting of a small empty box that he refused to throw away._

It was a bit late for an April Fools’ joke, but here she was, wondering if the universe had played a trick on her. First the paper instructions fell, then the test itself right into the sink, then her glasses fell to her nose, completing the adage of _bad things happen in threes_.

Sophia wasn't superstitious by nature, but that one seemed to happen quite often. Except for her, it was multiples of threes. Nines, to be exact.

"Oh, damn," she muttered. 

She balanced on the balls of her feet as she retrieved the piece of plastic from where it'd fallen. Glasses back in place, she reeled from the sudden rising vertigo-like nausea that she'd been experiencing all week. This certainly hadn't been according to her plans, but here it was. In a few short minutes, her life could change forever.

She leaned on the sink for support, only then remembering that she'd already misplaced the instructions. Damn it. Where the hell could she have put them? She bent down to look for the box.

"Hey, gorgeous!" Liam called from the other room. The door slammed behind him, not so much as an act of anger, as more or less that he simply couldn't do anything quietly.

She heard his voice taper off and some kind of rustling. Given that she didn't like broadcasting every single thing to the neighbors, she didn't respond immediately. He'd find his way to her. He always did.

She pushed herself up and peered inside the garbage can. Still no instructions. Where was that damn box?

"Did you bring home dinner?" she asked when he was a few rooms closer.

"Yeah, I got some leftovers from ma right here. Hey, what's thi–a―a pregnancy test?"

Liam was quiet for a few moments. She opened the edge of the door to peer out, but she couldn't quite see him. Three years ago, she would've suspected his reaction to be the sound of the door slamming as he took off on a run.

" _Pregnant?_ You're preggers?"

"Well, I'll know in a moment." By this time, the color on the test had finally started to materialize. She frowned as she turned it over, attempting to remember what each sign meant.

"You've got the box, right? What's two blue lines?"

"Baby!"

"What?"

"No, _baby!_ "

He pushed through the door and held the box up high.

" _Baby_ ," he repeated once more.

He had a huge grin on his face, and before she could even ask him how he felt about this, he lifted her up and spun her so fast that they nearly fell into the counter. The test fell back into the sink and she nearly did as well. Her dizziness returned in full force and she clung to him tight enough to leave marks.

"Liam!” she yelled. ”Come on, we're about to tip right over here."

"Oh, yeah, that would be no good for the kid," he said. He put her down with some reluctance and settled for staying close on the ground instead of staying close while being mid-air.

"I take it you're happy about the results?" she asked.

"Damn right I am! Oh, this will be _great!_ "

She retrieved the test from the sink, threw it into the trash basket and then bent to wash her hands.

He bent to retrieve it again. "We should keep it, y’know, for memory's sake―"

"It's covered in pee," she said. “That's how the test works.”

Liam leapt back in a defensive pose of his hands in front of his chest she'd seen many times. His back was to the wall only a second, like he might have to fend off an attack.

"―yeah, I'll just keep the box." He threw the test back into the trash basket.

"That's probably for the best."

He put his arms around her waist again, his hands lingering at her stomach while she dried her hands.

"You won't be able to feel anything for a while."

"It's never too soon to try.”

And here she'd thought he'd have worries and misgivings about fatherhood. Then again, she'd also thought that he'd be the type to never commit and he was the one begging her to marry him five dates in, and she was the one who had to make him slow down.

Though she'd said yes. Eventually.

She caught a side of his face in the mirror. He had a smear of yellow across his cheek which she first thought was food, but she knew Colleen would never let him out of her sight with a messy face. Another glance showed that it was actually pollen.

Even though they were married for two years already, whenever he came home soon enough, he'd have flowers. Perhaps it was daisies this time.

On any given day, her apartment was so filled with displays of flowers that it resembled a funeral parlor. She'd even gotten condolences from the landlord when he'd come in to fix their pipes.

He'd been talking, but she'd lost herself in memories. It wasn't often that she'd known the luxury of trusting someone enough to be able to not be on guard at every moment.

"---and then we'll take 'em out to the park, and we'll get a dog and oh, oh, this is goin' to be _great_ ," Liam said.

He paused to glance at her in the mirror's reflection.

"Hey, you ain't said nothin'. You worried?"

"I'm still processing it, that's all," she said. “This is going to be a gigantic change for all of us. I'll have to do something about my job, but… I'm not disappointed.”

"See, I didn't think you'd be happy about this,” Liam said. “Eight years ago, you wouldn't have been."

"Eight years ago, I wouldn't have married you, you wouldn't have married _me_ , or anyone for that matter, and you wouldn't have been happy to hear I was pregnant,” she replied. “Things are very different now."

"I'll be excited for the both of us," he said. He shifted around so he could kiss all over her face, smudging her lipstick and leaving traces of pink on her cheeks, the line of her chin, and even the bridge of her nose. She laughed, his eyelashes tickled against her for additional accidental butterfly kisses.

She cupped his face when they were finally apart. He was a little more scarred in these six years, but his face had remained boyish and hairless, much to his displeasure.

“Hmm, it’s actually kind of funny,” she finally said after a few minutes of silence.

“What is?” he asked.

"I have a history of being wrong about you, it seems.”

"Ain't your fault. I'm a man of _mystery_. Too awesome for just words, y’know? I mean God, a _kid_! This is goin' to be wonderful."

"Yes, I can't wait to have 3 AM feedings and swell up like a balloon while I eat everything in sight."

Sophia sighed. Considering how her family kept on post-pregnancy weight, she would just have to get used to being pear-shaped for the rest of her life.

"Correction, you're finally goin' to be eatin' enough. We'll eat out at allll the restaurants in town, maybe several a night. It'll be like one big date that never ends."

"Oh really? I will grow enormous and crush you." She couldn't quite manage menacing, so it came out as more of a dread prophecy of things to come.

"Babe, I got sat on by Heavy once when I stole his sandwich. _Bring it._ "

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"You goin' to drag me shoppin' for little baby stuff after I track down all the guys and give them the news?"

"Well, that too. We're going to have to tell my parents eventually."

Without fail, her parents always managed to make several mentions that there were very nice divorce lawyers in the area, and many acceptable men who weren't ex-convict thugs from the slums of Southie and practically unemployable outside of TF Industries. Their disapproval was so strong that even _he_ got it, and considering just how dense he could be about other people's issues with him, that was saying something.

"We could put off telling them for a few weeks at least. If we put off telling _your_ mother, however, we'll never hear the end of it."

He chuckled. "You better call her in the next ten minutes, or she's never goin' to forgive you. In fact, I'm callin' her now. Otherwise, there'll be bloodshed, and I gotta say, ma is scarier than any Heavy."

He bent one last time to kiss her neck before he left. From the other room, she could hear his voice.

_Hey, ma, guess what? I'm goin' to be a dad!_

She was fairly sure the entire apartment complex could hear him as well, but it was hardly the most embarrassing thing overheard because of Liam's lack of an indoor voice.

 

May 2th, 1977. _An old company photo. X's were drawn over every person Sophia had to kill in her line of work. Only Marley, Saxton Hale, Bidwell, and the Administrator were left._

After the Gravel Wars and the Robot Wars, work had slowed down considerably. Saxton Hale had since moved on to other endeavors, including a new television show of his exploits, a guest spot on “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson,” and a personal line of products (which included cologne, no less). The Administrator remained on, but now Sophia almost never had any bodies to work with. Hat sales were a far more peaceful line of work than gravel disputes.

She'd filled out the papers the day after she'd found out for certain, but it took many more days (or rather weeks) for her to actually submit them. Liam had enough joy for both of them, which left all the worrying to her. TF Industries wasn't an institution anyone quit _or_ left without some form of loss, whether it be memories, money, reputation, or even their _life_.

With the gravel war over, Liam was no longer Scout, as there wasn't a war to be fought anymore. These days Mann Co.'s hats outsold guns, much to Sophia's dismay.

But that didn't mean her job had been lost. The Administrator had more papers to be disposed of than bodies, but at least shredders didn't get blood all over her clothes like woodchippers did.

Typically, most people in the business would have to deal with weeks before they knew and their severance package would be her gun to their back and a bag of quicklime. She'd known before the hour was done.

Sophia had just finished putting away her sole potted violet into a little box to straighten out what few possessions she kept at her desk, when Marley strode in. He closed the door, his hands shaking, as he swallowed, like it was a bomb attached to his chest and not the Administrator on a portable television screen. He'd lasted longer than most because he knew how to keep his mouth shut. Even now, the screen trembled ever so slightly from his labored breaths. His trench coat was slick with rain and new dark stains she thought must be blood.

His hat was pulled low to obscure his angular face. He hadn't shaved in days, leaving a new stubble. From the television strapped to his chest, the Administrator stared out with a disapproving glare. She hadn't filed the papers yet, but of course, the Administrator already knew. Nothing ever got past her.

"Explain," the Administrator said in a terse voice. Her hands were steepled, which made her impeccable manicure look like some sharp, deadly weapon in this light.

"It's simple, really. I'm pregnant."

Administrator's lip curled as if she'd said something repulsive.

"I know the company's maternity leave policy, or lack thereof. And I can't raise a child on one day a year off. So I'm giving my two weeks' notice."

In all her time as a worker, she'd never seen someone survive long enough to quit. Firings usually were quite literal and referred to guns (or even cannons) once or twice. The Administrator was quite creative in her methods of carnage. To say this was a brazen bluff was an understatement.

She turned and put another pen in her box. It was a dangerous thing to turn your back to the Administrator. Sophia had killed more than her fair share of former coworkers who had looked away just long enough for her to pull out her weapon.

None of the workers here were unarmed, especially not Marley, who'd lasted this long. With every paperweight moved, every inch of the box filled, she expected to feel steel against her neck but she continued packing. It was a test of wills, a quiet war. Very few had gone head to head with the Administrator and won, let alone escaped with their lives. But ever since she'd met him, she'd started to act out, little by little. A kiss stolen, a date, a secret meeting.

At this angle, neither of them could see the slight tremble as she forced herself to calm. This was against everything she'd learned in these years. _Never threaten the Administrator if you wanted to live, never leave yourself open, never try and fight for anything, lest you join all the others who outlived their usefulness._

Marley cleared his throat, but she ignored it and continued to fill her box.

Over the screen, she heard the rustling of some kind of papers.

"Marley, give Miss Pauling the forms."

The Administrator had never bothered to get the message that she was technically no longer Miss Pauling, but Mrs. Dempsey. Given her feelings on Sophia's husband, though, it was likely a decided slight against him.

The beleaguered assistant swallowed and looked from side to side as if someone might be lurking there. He handed her the papers with an unsteady hand. He'd been here long enough to know that there was only one way out of Mann Co., and that was a shallow grave covered in quicklime.

She waited for the usual _I'm disappointed in you_ and the same discussion that had happened before her wedding, but the Administrator just lit another cigarette instead.

As she glanced over the paper, she realized that she'd never seen this kind before, despite years of working there. The way the Administrator looked at her was like a dare, eyes narrowed, a tight grip on her cigarette.

Every once in a while, the Administrator would show a human side. Of course, she'd never let the Administrator realize she'd thought of her as anything but an iron queen with a ruthless grip on all her holdings and employees. Sophia was smart enough to know that any show of mercy should be only barely acknowledged, lest the Administrator change her mind.

A generous paid maternity leave, with flexible vacation days and weekends off. Everything she'd always wanted, but never dared to ask for. For a few moments, she put off looking up and facing the Administrator.

The Administrator had been prepared to lose. If anything, this could very well be a test of how much Sophia would demand. She'd never quite dared to believe that she could be considered invaluable, that she could ask for more. She was too pragmatic and far too experienced. Yet, here it was. No penalties and no shallow grave in her future. She hadn't even lost pay or had to resort to blackmail. If anything, it felt like the spoils of war, something akin to a promotion.

"I'll have these notarized before the day is done," she said.

She didn't say _thank you_ because the Administrator never wanted thanks. It would be beneath her, an insult to the faint kindness, which was more likely simply that Sophia hadn't outlived her usefulness yet.

The Administrator didn't bother with a goodbye. She always considered pleasantries frivolous and beneath her. The screen went dark and the assistant let out a long breath.

She nodded to him. There was no use in taking in the details, of thinking of the family he'd leave behind when he had to be killed. That was life working for TF Industries and she had accepted it.

But with this new chance, she just might have another future in store. She pushed her plant back into place and began to put all her pens back in her desk. She could only imagine the look on Liam's face when he heard the news that he'd finally get time with her without waiting years for her day off. Just the thought of his happiness could make her smile. And that thought would be an ember, burning low through the day. A constant source of little joys.

For the first time since she was hired, she had a little bit of hope about her place in the company.

 

July 9th, 1977. _A Polaroid taken by Spy of a white hospital room. Colleen and Liam look over a hospital bed._

Liam had been pacing the length of the room for the past fifteen minutes. Colleen had taken up a seat by the bed, her large robin's egg blue purse resting just at the edge of her purple heels. For years she'd worn red to cheer on her son, but now it was Sophia who was getting a little of the color-coded support.

"One of these days, you need to come over and visit me,” Colleen said. “I’ve got plenty of recipes to share."

"You're havin' cookies without me?" Liam asked, seeming rather disappointed.

"We'll be talkin' about scary girl things, honey," Colleen replied.

"I doubt I'll be able to eat the whole batch," Sophia said.

“Oh, that’s okay. Veronica’s still got an appetite from havin’ Regan. She could probably help you with that.”

Liam didn't seem remotely mollified, but the elderly nurse had come back. With all the chairs taken, he settled for leaning against the white walls. He jiggled his legs as he looked around, as jittery as if he'd drank five cups of coffee before coming in. Knowing Liam, he just might have.

"Sir, please don't lean on the wires," the nurse said.

"Oh, yeah, got it---" He pushed himself up from the wall.

"Now, everything's in order?" the nurse asked cheerily. She had a habit of ending sentences with a questioning note, even when they weren't questions.

"Mostly," Sophia responded.

"I had a ton of these, it's nothin' to worry about,” Colleen said. “A bit cold, but it doesn't hurt at all."

"I wasn't worried," Sophia said.

"Me neither," Liam said less convincingly.

He bent down next to the bed and rested his arms on the metal frame.

"Your legs are going to get sore," Sophia said.

"Babe, I have run over the whole earth at least three times total with all the runnin' I've done. I can deal with a little stiff knees."

"Probably more, considering that a normal person will run the length of the equator five times in their lifetime."

He twisted his fingers into the sleeve of her purple button-up sweater. "No sexy hospital gown? Not like you aren't knockin' that sweater out of the park..."

"Only you would think a _hospital gown_ was sexy."

"Excuse me, _backless to the extreme_? That's pretty sexy. To say nothin' of those little ties..."

"They're shapeless and have horrible colors."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll pull it off. You'd pull off, like, a barrel or a burlap sack or somethin’."

The nurse couldn’t help but laugh at their conversation. "It's good to have some fire in your marriage,” she said. “But when the children come, well... then it starts fading after a while. Sad, isn’t it?"

"Ain't goin' to happen," Liam said.

He watched as the liquid dripped over the slight bulge of her stomach. He reached out to touch the gel, but the nurse swatted his hand away.

Sophia flinched slightly at the unfamiliar chill. "Ah, it's cold..."

"Now, no touching until the test is done," the nurse said. “You'll make me have to reapply it all.”

He settled for holding her hand instead.

"I never did get used to that part,” Colleen said. “It always felt like an ice cube slipped down my shirt." She shuddered at this.

The nurse rubbed the transducer over her abdomen. Liam provided a few comic sound effects for the device; some things never changed.

"This won't take long,” the nurse said as she brushed her hand through her thick gray curls. “We've upgraded our technology." She then proceeded to walk off for a moment into another section of the room.

And it wasn't a lie. Liam had barely gotten into some barely believable– and she knew from experience, largely exaggerated –story when the nurse returned. A monochrome screen in the back flicked on. Through it, a little blob of a shape could just be made out amongst the blurry, empty space. Liam looked up at it, completely wonderstruck by what he was seeing. His hand squeezed hers tightly.

"Holy shit… my baby looks like an alien," Liam said in wonder.

" _Liam_ , she does not," Colleen scolded. She frowned down at him, but he was too entranced with the picture on the monitor screen to notice. "All babies look like that, except you. Your pictures never came out right because you were runnin' even then and you wouldn't sit still for the ultrasound."

"No, it's awesome. I'm goin' to have an awesome superbaby! She'll be liftin' cars before she's two, just keep her away from the kryptonite."

"Actually, _I'm_ going to be having the alien baby," Sophia said dryly.

"I helped!” Liam protested. “A lot. In fact, you could say she couldn't have done it without me."

The elderly nurse looked at him sternly. "Do you want a wave of angry pregnant women and nursing mothers coming your way for waking them up?"

"Oh shit, no―!"

"Then I advise you to be quiet," she said.

He promptly shut up, but not before loudly whispering, "Awesome alien superbaby."

Sophia shook her head and squeezed his hand back. He had such wonder and whimsy. Without her there to tether him, he probably would've lost himself to his idealism and fancies.

"What's the flickerin' mean?"

"Oh, that? That's the baby's heartbeat?" The nurse said. She smiled.  
Liam could only gape as he watched the screen. "You think I can feel it?" Liam said.

"Not now, you can't. Well, anyways, everything looks healthy so far," the nurse said with a smile. “And it looks like you're going to have a little girl.”

" _A girl,_ " Colleen gasped, her voice both full of wonder and cracking as though she were on the verge of tears. "I never got one of those."

"Well, now you sort of do," Liam said.

Colleen smiled softly and took Sophia's other hand into hers. "No, you're right. No 'sort of' about it."

 

July 12th, 1977. _A picture of Tavish, Jane and Liam on the couch together. Each held up a bottle in a cheer._

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence to walk in and find hired killers in her apartment, especially when she’d worked alongside those same people for many years. Given how they usually behaved, however, she couldn't tell if she was relieved or disappointed to find that the furnishings were still intact in all their tacky, ugly glory.

Pregnancy had only made her hatred of the era’s aesthetics that much more intense. She had eschewed the current fashion choices of bright oranges, floral decor, and patterns that looked more at home in a kaleidoscope, and she viscerally understood Oscar Wilde's last quote: _Either the wallpaper goes, or I_. She never was one to follow the trends, always settling for something safe and classic in the end.

"I see ye have been outdrinkin' him again," Tavish commented.

“Hmm?” Sophia looked down at her stomach. "Oh, this isn't from alcohol; I haven't had a single drink in months… unfortunately."

"Nope, it's from _baby_ , and that is all my fault," Liam said. He smirked as he took a sip of his beer. "I'm doin' the drinkin' for both of us."

"Then I better help, because we all know yae can barely take a thimbleful before yae are cryin' on the floor or tryin' to fight ol' Heavy again," Tavish said.

"Hey, it was more than a friggin' thimble!" Liam protested. “A bottle, at least.”

"A bottle is but a thimble to us Scots." Tavish pushed back a drink and guzzled deep. "Aye, little Scootin' one. I ever show yae a trick I can do with Brandy?"

"No lighting beer burps in the house,” Sophia said. “No farts either."

"Hey, I ain't done that in years," Liam said.

"Didn't Erich say you were to stop with the binge drinking?" Sophia asked.

"Aye, but he says a lot of things,” Tavish said. ”I'd best get a second opinion than some back alley organ thief."

With him, it was generally the best plan.

"You're pretty daring, though," Liam said. “Most women would shank you if you said they were fat. It was like the first thing Spy told me when he was teachin' me some stuff ages ago. Especially don't say a woman's ass is fat… though I don't get that one. I like fat asses, doesn't everyone?”

"I dinnae say she was fat," Tavish protested. “A beer belly is nothin' to be ashamed of. It's a sign of how powerful yae liver is.”

"Talk about livin' dangerously!” Liam smirked at his own quip. “Like, you never heard about that you never ask a woman's age, or tell her that she looks fat in those jeans? Never at all?"

"The only woman in my life is Rum and she's a dirty girl. She never once minded if I said so, but I always pay for a night out with her," he said.

Jane squinted at Sophia's stomach like it might hold a potential danger.

"Babies, you say?” Jane narrowed his eyes. “Zhanna has already had one of those!"

"It's not a friggin' contest. But my baby is goin' to win, hands down. All the contests. I mean have you even _seen_ Sophia?" Liam motioned to her. He had a habit of going dreamy-eyed just at the mention of her name. Six years of tension, coupled with several years of dating and marriage, had done nothing to lessen his starry-eyed adoration.

"Son, my baby is the _prettiest_ baby in America, and that is the law. And if that is not the law, I will _punch the president_ until it _is_ the law!"

"Please, you need glasses. Soph and me are goin' to make a kid so pretty, the universe is goin' to break. People won't be able to look at her. Lookin' at my baby would be like _starin' at the sun_."

"Zhanna is the most ravishing woman in the world; her babies will punch out bears before they're weaned!"

Liam punched his right fist to his left palm. "Please! My kid is goin' to be runnin' marathons before she can walk, no contest there. Who wants smelly bears anyways? My kid is goin' to be wearin' a coat of all the blue ribbons she took home before she could walk."

He gripped Liam's collar. "I should introduce you to Admiral Fist, and Rear Admiral other fist!"

Liam snickered. "Rear Admiral, good one. Shouldn't that be Rear Admiral boot?"

Jane thought a moment, then dropped Liam to the ground. "Meet Rear Admiral boot, who I will personally introduce to your ass!"

"Hey, that's much better,” Liam said. “See, I'm a master at witty lines."

"Accordin' to ye, ye are a master of everythin'," Tavish said. “I'm half surprised ye didn't travel back in time and personally create the pyramids by flexin' at them.”

"C'mon, everybody knows the pyramids were created by aliens! Just like everybody knows Abraham Lincoln created stairs."

"I will alien my boot up your---"

Liam rolled his eyes. "That doesn't even make sense. I gotta teach you how to properly trash talk sometime. Less on the 'America' and more on the 'you suck."

"Less--on the America?" Jane's fist began to quiver.

"No breaking all his bones," Sophia said.

"Not even a little?" Jane asked, sounding like a petulant schoolboy.

"Doc isn't in town and I don't feel like another midnight emergency room visit, so no," Sophia replied. “Besides, he can’t be a master of everything if his ribs are crushed.”

Jane reluctantly let Liam fall back to the couch, with all his promises of violence left unfulfilled.

Liam snickered and leaned back on the couch. He always managed to turn failures into victories in his mind, which was good, as he'd failed quite a bit over the years.

"Ye are hidin' behind ye wife and actin' like it's a victory?" Tavish asked.

"You'll understand when you're married," Liam said.

Tavish shrugged and took another sip from his silver flask. "Ye got me there, lad. Ye got me there."

 

August 3rd, 1977. _A Polaroid taken of Colleen. A red dress was laid over her lap. She looked back with a smile at someone beyond the view of the camera._

She'd already gotten used to waking up feeling like she was on an uneven ship every morning, with creeping nausea that often lasted long past morning. What she wasn't used to was being a cup size larger. None of her blouses rested right over her stomach and the pearly buttons constantly came undone.

Liam was the only one who was thrilled with this new development, but he was thrilled about everything else that had happened these past few months... except for the morning sickness, of course. He preferred to sleep late, and the sound of her rushing up from bed and everything after always woke him up.

She wasn't too thrilled about the morning sickness either.

The tiles were cold against her knees. She took a swig of mouthwash and wiped at her mouth.

 _They'll be gone by the next trimester,_ she thought to herself. _You just need to get through this._

The door opened slightly and he slipped in. She didn't look up, but in seconds he was down on the floor with her. He rubbed his hand down her back in comforting circles.

"You okay?” His face twisted in concern. “You sounded like the rest of the other fellas the day after a night on the town."

"It passes," she said. “It's just another fun pregnancy thing, like having to eat constantly and gaining fifteen pounds.”

Liam leaned down to rest his head against her back. He laid his hand on her stomach and made soft circles there as well.

"Hey, sweetie, I know you're excited but you gotta be a bit nicer to your ma," he said softly. “Not too many dancin' parties, okay? We'll have more than enough of those when you get outta there.”

He laid a towel over her shoulders. It did nothing to alleviate her nausea, but it was a sweet gesture regardless.

"You up for breakfast?" Liam asked.

"I should at least try and drink something," she murmured.

"By the way, you probably don't wanna go out there like that."

"Why? Did Tavish fall asleep on the couch again?"

"Nah, I called in ma. She'll be here in a few. I even put some tea on for her. And yes, before you ask, it was the metal one this time."

Last time he'd tried to fix tea, he'd put the teapot and not the kettle on the stove. They'd ended up with shattered glass all across the kitchen, but at least it hadn't been antique or anything too special.

"Liam, you can't just keep calling your mother at all hours whenever something happens. Morning sickness is just a normal part of pregnancy."

"Yeah, but ma is an _expert_ at bein' knocked up. She's been knocked up almost to the double digits, so she knows what she's talkin' about. I'm sure she'll know exactly what to do!"

Sophia sighed and rested her head against the bathtub. The room still felt somewhat unsteady. "When will she be here?"

"Knowin' her, she's probably already here. I could carry you out if you ain't feelin' up to it."

"No, that's all right."

"Here, at least let me help you up--" He held out his hand. Liam couldn't help but fuss over her constantly. Gentleness was something he'd had to learn over time, not a natural trait. Because of this, he often went overboard in his acts of affection and kindness.

She took his hand. Despite that he tried to hide it, Liam wasn't good at hiding things, least of all from her. He grimaced just slightly and wobbled as he pulled her up.

"Next time you'll need to get a dolly to lift me up."

"Hey, you ain't fat, just preggers. Besides, I didn't even feel it. I’ve got muscles of _gold_ , you know."

"Liam, gold is one of the softest metals on Earth."

"That just means my biceps are walkin' trophies."

She was used to his continual bragging by now. There was always an edge of seeking reassurance under all that bluster.

"You certainly are a master of the gun show," she said.

He brightened at this. Just a little compliment from her would have him riding on a contact high all day long.

"Can you tell her I'll be there soon enough?" Sophia asked. “I still have to get ready. If I went out looking like this, I'd look like, well, a slob.”

"You'd look _gorgeous_ ; you’d be a gorgeous and sexy slob!" Liam exclaimed.

She looked down at one of his too worn shirts which was so large on her it doubled as a nightgown that hung well to her thighs. The bullet holes had never been patched, much to Liam's pleasure.

"I'd rather leave the slob part out and not flash your mother, thanks.”

"Got it, save the slobbin' for the bedroom.” Liam winked and closed the door behind him as he left.

She took a quick shower and dressed. Her still-damp hair clung to the back of her neck as she walked out into the kitchen.

The living room was a bit more cluttered than the night before. In that small amount of time, not only had Colleen arrived, but bolts of material and a sewing machine had materialized. Sophia could only assume that some of Liam's brothers had been enlisted to help, or perhaps Tavish and Jane. Colleen had a nigh magical way of making men behave and work to her bidding, especially the former mercenaries whom she was barely able to control even on her best days.

Colleen wore new diamond earrings, and a form-fitting dress that she pulled off better after eight children than Sophia could manage in her best years.

"So..." Colleen began. “Liam tells me you're havin' issues... and I can already see one.”

Sophia wasn't a procrastinator by nature. It was just more a case that she had to put things on indefinite hold due to her job. Now with actual time off, she had no easy excuse for the fact that her clothes were beginning to tighten. Her lavender blouse stretched tight over her chest. The buttons were stretched to the breaking point, leaving unintentional skin-revealing slots that Liam loved, though they made trips to the grocery more awkward.

Well, one. She'd tried to shop once- when she'd only been a month along -but the maternity clothes were boxy and uncomfortable, comparable to a burlap sack, and she hadn't looked deeper.

"Well, I've been meaning to buy new clothes, I just haven't exactly gotten around to it," she said. Sophia shrugged. "Shops are full of clothes, clothes which are supposed to be for pregnant women, but are just awful-- I guess I don't have to explain this to you since, you know, you’ve been pregnant eight times already."

Sophia cleared her throat. Even before noon, Colleen had the sort of smoky lounge-singer appeal. The tea smelled of cinnamon and other herbs she couldn't name. Sophia took a sip of the now lukewarm drink. It was a bit strong, though it had probably been good ten minutes ago when Liam had made it.

She rubbed at her head. If she thought she'd miss alcohol, she had no idea she'd miss caffeine this much. Both she and Liam had basically lived through workdays that never seemed to end via many, many cups of coffee.

"Well, considerin' how easy it is to get like this, I bet it's a surprise how hard it is to manage."

"The mornings aren't exactly pleasant, that's for sure, and I really, really miss drinking."

"Yeah, I'm glad I don't have any of those anymore,” Colleen said. “You just gotta be a little creative, that's all. I never had money for new dresses and I wouldn't be caught dead in the kind of things they wear. I don't even know who designs these things. Whoever it is, they have no eye for anythin' flatterin' or fashion."

Sophia held her teacup poised, but didn't sip. The relief was palatable, yet a surprise. She was so used to succeeding that struggling left her uneasy and off course. She set the teacup down without taking a drink.

Colleen chuckled low. She set aside her teacup and patted Sophia on the shoulder. As she smiled, Sophia could see the hints of age that her lipstick and makeup couldn't quite hide. Colleen was as much a master of illusion as Spy was. The right makeup, the right poise, and she looked thirty years younger. But it was more than mere makeup. Colleen had a certain presence: a force that demanded obedience, and few ever managed to resist her will.

"I can't say it gets easy, because it ain't called labor for how fun it is, that's for damn sure. But you're a capable girl. Liam spent ages goin' on about how strong and smart you are. Hours and hours he'd go on. I practically had his spiel memorized about the time he married you. I know you can take this."

"Thank you, but this is too much. Liam shouldn't be calling you constantly--”

Colleen cut her off. "You're my daughter, not just some 'in-law' who married my son. The least I can do is let in and make you some clothes. Besides, this is a dream come true. I never got to dress up my boys in pretty things and I never had a girl until now.” She rummaged through a bag of fabrics. “You want all purple or you want some other colors to go with it?"

Sophia was about to speak the usual refrain _I don't have time for this_ when she remembered that now she did. She had whole weekends to herself, with no uniform, and every color imaginable for her to wear.

"I think a change would be nice for once," she answered. “I've always wondered if I'd look good in red.”

"You'd look stunnin' in any color, but mine is the best of all," Liam said.

He leaned over the top of the couch, his arms folded beneath his chin.

"Did you remember to get my purse?" Colleen asked.

"Course, ma," Liam said. “I set it by the door so you wouldn't forget it.”

"You brought this all in yourself?" Sophia asked.

"Of course. Haulin' things is what I do for a livin'. And ma's usually nicer about orders than Old Man Hale. At least most of the time she uses my name and not 'that thing.'"

"Is he bein' mean again?” Colleen asked. “I'll have to have a talk with him again."

"Geez, a talk. I sure am glad I ain't Old Man Hale right now. I've been through ma's 'talks' before." Liam shuddered.

"Oh, hush,” Colleen said. “You make me sound like some kind of monster. Anyways, you got any suggestions? Anythin' you wanna see your girl in?"

"She'd look incredible in anythin', even a burlap sack, so anythin' but blue. Unless it's navy and got some red in it, like the Sox logo," Liam said.

Liam never was good at forgetting rivalries, even ones which had long faded into myth and memories.

"Now, I can either surprise you with a bunch of bolts of cloth, or you could go out shoppin' with me. Though I know this heat is somethin' else. It always gets so much worse when you're knocked up through the summer. Like you're carryin' around your very own heater."

"Just add up the bills," Sophia said. “And I'll repay the effort and calculate the amount of time you spent on each dress.”

Colleen refreshed her ruby red lipstick. "Sweetie, you don't owe me a dime.”.

August 9th, 1977 _Several matchbooks from restaurants, most with sailboats or serving sea-food. Sophia always had them hidden away in drawers. Every time she would look for a pen or address book, the memories would come flooding back._

At first, she hadn't thought there was any ulterior motive to him taking her out to eat more often. She was often far too tired to cook and they already relied on Colleen's kindness too much, though his mother would never say so.

However, she soon realized that like many things, this was a form of showing off. He put their chairs close together and made sure to lower back when the waiter came, so everyone could see her swollen stomach. And in the unlikely chance that anyone missed her wedding ring and baby bump, Liam would be sure to point it out.

His Argyles, or _date clothes_ , as he put it, were about as close as he willingly got to dressing up. He laced his fingers in hers and would turn back every so often to smile at her, and that point of contact. She hadn't worn prints, let alone florals, in years. Colleen's handiwork made for a comfortable yet flattering cut; it was high collared with an A-line skirt and just a hint of a pleat.

Had the dress been cut any lower across the chest or higher across the leg, she never would've left the apartment or worn the dress for very long.

The place they'd picked was far more fancy than they usually went to and it was only a 'family' restaurant, not a black tie event. Liam visited the chicken joint near where they lived so many times that all the servers knew him by name.

It was rather empty for a weekend, though she thought that perhaps it was too early for the rush. Dinner and lunch and brunch all were moved up and extended now. All the jokes she'd heard about pregnancy over the years were now simply her state of being.

Liam pulled out the chair and took her coat. He'd picked up the skills of a gentleman along the way, even if he wore them off-center, like a borrowed coat that didn't quite fit. As he looked around, he couldn't stop grinning.

The waiter set down two cups of water and complimentary buttered rolls.

Liam motioned to her. "This is my gorgeous _wife_ and did I mention that we're goin' to have a kid? Only a few more months now!"

"That's nice, sir," the waiter said. “But I need your order.”

He wore thick red flannel, which seemed to be the uniform. It had to be a Massachusetts thing, something about the cape or fishermen. She was still getting caught up on the lingo here.

She pushed the silverware back together on the checkered tablecloth. Only a few other couples were seated nearby, and all were caught up in their own little dramas and lives. For some reason, the entire building never lost the faint scent of saltwater and fish.

"Oh yeah, burger and fries for me,” Liam said. “Don't skimp on the ketchup. What about you, Soph?"

"I'll have the number four seafood special, the Fettuccine Alfredo, the Caesar salad, and a pie to split," she said.

"Which slice of dessert would you prefer, sir?"

"Just bring us one of everythin',” Liam said. “Like an everythin' pie. Wait, make that _two_ of everythin', like two everythin' pies!"

"Of course, sir," the waiter said.

Liam watched her with interest as she set the menu aside. For a moment, she rubbed at an unfortunate stain on her floral dress. Thankfully, it was ink. Bloodstains in public were always such an annoyance.

"So... nice choices there," Liam said.

"I'm ordering for two," she replied. “Three, if you count that you always sample my food. Last time, you ate half my fries and I only got a small order.”

"I know, it's _great_. That kid and I are goin' to hit every single hot dog eatin' contest on the coast, mark my words. You could help us reach the championship.”

"Hey, someone has to take the pictures."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. You can catch all our trophies when we got the Dempsey family champions. We'll even get matchin' weenie suits, because everyone knows you are what you eat, so if you go in there with a hot dog suit, you'll win for sure!"

She couldn't help but smile at his fanciful outburst. He was always building up seemingly impossible dreams that he somehow managed to make real. It was just one of his own little miracles.

By this time, the other patrons had quieted. It was only a matter of time before Liam would get their attention. He never was good at keeping quiet.

"I'll cheer you on," Liam said. "And steal your noodles, I mean that's a given."

"This isn't the kind of restaurant where you slam the table and yell 'chug, chug, chug,'" Sophia said. “Or in our case, 'eat, eat, eat.'”

"C'mon, this is _Boston._ We'll make it one. I'll slip the waiter a Franklin. No way he'll kick us out then."

She shook her head and hid the hints of her laughter behind her napkin, but he saw, just as he always did, and leaned in for a kiss. His lips always tasted sweet, like bubblegum, cherry soda, or candy mints always hidden away in a pocket.

He traced his thumb across her cheek and down her jaw. Sometimes he would just lose all track of thought and get lost in her.

He laughed at a joke he didn't share or just the lingering happiness at getting to kiss her.

"I get to spend weekends with you and I get to kiss you whenever I want," Liam said giddily.

"Almost whenever you want," she said.

"Close enough." He stole one last kiss. He only pulled back when the waiter cleared his throat. Liam's elbow was blocking his path.

"Newlyweds?" the waiter asked with faint amusement.

"Not quite," Sophia replied. “Our two year anniversary is coming up soon.”

She dabbed at her lips. Mann Co. could build teleporters, yet they still hadn't championed a kiss proof lipstick. More often than not, Liam ended up wearing more Deadly Mauve #57 than she was.

"He still thinks we're newlyweds, though."

"Congratulations anyways," the waiter said.

"Just between you and me, pally, I say that to myself in the mirror every single freakin' day," Liam said.

The waiter smiled and began to set down their plates.

It wasn't even that fancy of a place, simply a restaurant down by the dock. One with strange choices in décor. Fishhooks and fishnets, with the occasional bucket and rope for extra 'rustic' quality.

Liam lifted his complimentary water and lifted it like a toast. Before he finished the glass, he set it aside to wave at a person across the restaurant. These days, he could never go anywhere without running into acquaintances. Though she suspected he was seeking out people just to show her off to.

"To my lovely wife, who's goin' to have our first kid in a few months!"

It only resulted in some minor greetings yelled across the room. The waiter passed by them, taking a tray to another couple.

"If you ever stopped showing off, I think you'd die," she said.

"Probably," Liam said.

"I'm surprised you didn't chase him down and force him to look through the ultrasound pictures."

"I can't help it, Sophie. I'm just so happy, I want to get a telephone and call past me. ‘Hey, Liam from nine years ago? Yeah, that girl you about ran into a wall the first time you caught sight of her? Guess what? She's my _wife_ now. She's knocked up with my kid, and I get to sleep next to her almost every night, and I get so much sex now.’ Old me could have _never_ imagined this much awesome sex. I don’t think even twelve-year-old me’s _dreams_ would’ve allowed the kind of sex we have. The me of back then thinks his life is awesome then, but it's about to get a million times more awesome. And all he's gotta do is push a button."

"Gee, why don't you talk about our sex life louder, Liam? I'm sure there's people in Fenway Park and _Antarctica_ who haven't heard of it yet."

"That's a great idea--"

"Liam, no. And you wonder why the neighbors don't like us."

"The neighbors are friggin' jealous. I mean, I don't blame them. Not everyone can get like me, or get with you. Somebody had to have the most amazin' life in existence, and that someone is me."

"I think the thin walls help contribute to it."

"Like I said, they're jealous."

"Maybe a little bit."

It was a different waiter who brought their food back on a large tray. Liam brightened and began the ritual all over.

_Hey, by the way, this is my wife, and she's goin' to have our first kid in a few months!_

This time, she just sipped her water. Soon enough, he'd be stopping strangers to show off pictures of his children or let them peek into the baby carrier. Even though her child wasn't born yet, she knew this was exactly the kind of father he'd be.

August 20th, 1977. _A picture of Liam carrying bags back, taken unaware by Spy._

In her defense, she never asked for pickles and ice cream, though more than once, Liam had to make late night trips out for midnight snacks when nothing appealed in the fridge-- or they'd managed to go through most of the contents due to her pregnancy eating, and Liam being Liam. There were a few restaurants which worked all hours, and Liam became on a first-name basis with several of the workers there. Even if they were more than likely open all night because of mafia affiliation, that didn't mean they didn't make a damn good Fettuccine Alfredo.

At 3 AM, they had not a midnight snack, but another dinner. The light over the stove flickered over and over, threatening to burst. She'd have to get that replaced soon. Another thing to report to the landlord.

Liam dropped the bags on the table, careless in his hurry to get his welcome back kiss. Any restaurant around knew to bag their food with the strongest containers around, and then add some tape for good measure. If it wasn't his impatience which made them spill, it would be his determination to get home as soon as possible.

She righted the bags and poured out the contents into only slightly chipped bowls.

"They're still warm," she said. She savored each creamy bite.

"Told you I'm the fastest thing around," Liam said. He dug out a large forkful of noodles. White sauce fell in drops from his spoon back into his bowl.

"By the way, you still ain't picked out a name," Liam continued in between bites. "And I guess we can't just keep the kid on the couch, right?"

White sauce dripped down his chin. He wiped it away with his thumb.

"Well, I looked at the books you bought me," she said. “Nothing I saw just stood out as a name for her.”

Even he had pulled out _What To Expect When You're Expecting,_ and attempted to read it before he suddenly stopped to fling it at the wall. She couldn't tell the exact reason why he’d done that, but she guessed there was some too graphic detail about childbirth which had traumatized him enough that he wouldn't even look at the book.

"We could call her Kara. You know, like Supergirl,” Liam said.

"I suppose there's worse superheroes to name her after," Sophia said. “I mean you don’t see any girls out there named Namora, do you?”

"Well, we sure as hell aren't calling her Batman; we both know what happened to his parents."

"And no, we can't call her Lois. Naming her after your first fictional crush is out of the question. So is calling her Cher, Barbie, Moneypenny, Pussy Galore, or Jean Grey. God forbid we name her after a pop star, a doll, a Bond girl, or a woman who could _literally destroy the world with her mind_ if she wanted to."

"What about Lucy? Lucy Dempsey has a nice ring about it."

"No Lanes."

“I was actually thinkin’ of Lucille Ball. She’s a comedic genius.”

“Still…”

Liam slurped down more noodles. His plate was almost picked clean. It wasn't just running he had remarkable speed with. He did everything fast, be it talking, eating, or losing his temper. It'd always come in handy in the past, when the only time they could spend together had to be multitasked through work and lunch periods.

"Hey, no biggie. We got time. Babies take like two years, right? Plenty of time!"

"That's elephants," she said. “We've only got a couple of months left.”

"Well, crap," Liam said. “We gotta get on this. Right after these noodles, we're goin' to have a nameless baby and no cradle. She'll have to sleep in a _suitcase_.”

"You don't need to rush," Sophia said. “Nothing will be open at this hour.”

"I mean, a brick is the best way to get it done--"

Sophia shook her head. "The last thing we need is me having to break you out of jail again. Can you imagine us running from the cops when I'm like _this_?" She motioned towards her stomach, which had gotten large enough that sitting at tables was growing more difficult by the day.

"I'd have to steal you a skateboard. You could teach the little Dempsey how to ollie before she's even born--"

Sophia crossed her arms over her breasts, which turned out to be a harder (and more painful) feat than before given their current size. " _Liam_. No stealing things until I can properly on the run. Scooters, skateboards, and unicycles don't count. Neither does you giving me a ride."

"It's all right, I can keep my stealin' to kisses," Liam said. "So, we'll go out lookin' tomorrow?"

"Mmm, we'll probably have to wait until next weekend," she replied. “The hours have normalized, but my time off hasn't come in yet.”

Liam twirled several noodles around his fork. He was the only man she knew who ate soup and stew with a spoon. "Gotcha. Anythin' you don't want?"

"Hmm... just no creepy pastel animals, that's all I ask," she said.

"Deal--- I think they're creepy too. Another thing we agree on. Aw, yess, I gotta remember to put this in my journal." He pulled out a pen, made a victory mark on his wrist, and spun the pen around in his fingers.

Liam had been counting up things they had in common, or things they agreed on since long before they were married. She was pretty sure he had it hidden somewhere. Even after two years of marriage, he was still keeping tabs. She had a feeling he'd be doing this well into their nineties, if they even lived that long.

She folded her hands. His joy was infectious. "You haven't filled up that journal yet? You must've gotten a huge one, because I see you writing down in that constantly."

"Please, this is like the fifth one," Liam said. “With the way it's goin', I'll be well on my sixth before the baby gets here.”

"More like seventh," Sophia said mischievously.

Liam leaned in close, until he could rest his hand over hers.

"Or eighth," Liam said.

September 5th, 1977. _A photo of Sophia's side of the family taken in a dim restaurant. No one is smiling in the picture._

6 PM

Sophia set the phone on the cradle. Ever organized, the first thing she did was pull out her appointment and to-do list, and start crossing out and reassigning tasks. Liam leaned into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets. He shifted several times before he finally spoke.

Enough of their potential dates had been canceled that he knew the signs.

"Uh oh,” Liam said. “Was that the Voice?"

"Nope, that was my parents. About that weekend spent baby shopping-- we'll have to postpone it, as my parents are in town.”

"Your parents are comin'? Don't you know better than to invite them in? You-you don't invite in _evil_ past the threshold, that's just the rules! Hell, I'd rather deal with the friggin' _Voice_ than them!"

"That's vampires.”

"You say that like there's any difference.”

"They live five hundred miles away. The last time we saw them, it was the wedding. Once every few years isn't that bad.”

"Hmm, who do I want to spend this weekend with? Flesh-suckin' creatures, that's who! Once every few years isn't nearly enough time to not spend with your parents. How about we not spend time with them for the rest of our _lives!_ "

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Would you prefer they imply that since my husband isn't around, there's plenty of men to fill that empty space?"

" _Fuck_ no! God, this is goin' to be a shitshow, but I ain't about to throw you to the wolves on your own. I will be right there, helpin' you disappoint your parents. Teenage you would've _loved_ me."

Sophia closed the appointment book and put it in her purse.

"Teenage me was so busy studying, I barely looked at anyone, let alone tried to rebel against my parents.”

"She still would've loved me.”

"Adult me loves you, and that's all that should count. After all, teenage relationships aren't exactly known for their stability.”

"You could even say you adore me.”

She stood up on tiptoe, hands cupping his cheeks. "You _could_ say that."

"I could, but you're the one I want to hear it from, not me.”

"Liam, you already know all this.”

"I still want to hear it every single day.”

Of course. Liam was always starved for attention. Be it screaming _"Look at me!"_ on the battlefield, to speaking louder just to get her to turn his way, he'd always want more.

"You feel that? That's my wedding ring and my engagement ring. Remember those?"

Liam chuckled. "Aw yeah, I sure as hell do. I was lookin' at rings for a long time, stoppin' in every storefront that carried 'em, but when ma brought out hers, I knew it was the right one. I put it in the wine glass, and you almost choked on it. I didn't have the nerve to tell you then, so it'd be months later, when that whole robot mess was over with, and we were back to buryin' bodies. You had that body halfway through, halfway down into that shallow grave that I finally couldn't take it anymore.”

"That was a _ring?_ " Sophia asked. "I thought Spy had messed up the wine and put pitted olives in it."

"Nah, I wanted it to be a surprise. I fucked up bad. Watchin' you almost die was one of the worst things I've ever been through."

"You were pretty weird after that. You could barely look at me for a while. This explains a lot, actually. I thought you got cold feet. I genuinely thought you were about to break up with me."

"What? No, not even a little! Pretty much from that minute I took the leap and stole that briefcase I ain't thought about runnin'. Okay, maybe there were some rough patches before we got together where the distance made me lose hope and wonder if we were anythin' at all, but I always doubled back, because I knew deep down you were all I really wanted."

She stroked his cheek. Old history she'd mostly heard before, but Liam would gladly repeat. Like a legend, he kept those anecdotes close.

"Well, good, then you'll have lots of practice facing impossible fights, because we're going to go out with my family. We best get dressed soon; they'll be here in an hour. We have a little time as you already showered, but I wouldn't press it. Knowing them, they might just arrive early."

Liam let out a groan. It was with reluctance that he moved away with her and to his side of the closet. Newly showered or not, his ratty red t-shirt with new chilli dog stains across the chest wasn't exactly going to impress her family.

"So, should I wear a suit, or go out and beat some Yankees fans and come in covered in blood?"

"What do you think, Liam?" Sophia said, with just a hint of annoyance creeping through. "They already think I've made a horrible choice. Why don't you dress like a greaser and put on some iron knuckles to just cement their view of you?"

"Actually, that sounds like a lot of fun-"

"Liam, don't," she said.

He kicked the carpet, dulling his shoes even more. "They always bringin' up ways to get you away from me. Sometimes I wanna impress them, sometimes I wanna be the boogeyman they keep sayin' I am just to watch them shake in their boots for a little bit. If I'm goin' to be the bad guy, I should at least be able to punch some faces in."

"I know, they're insufferable at times, but it's only a short visit. You can survive it without maiming any of my family members. Just last year you didn't fight with a single family member of yours. I'm pretty sure you set a new record," she said.

"Hate to break it to you, but there was a bit of punching when you went out for more punch," Liam said.

She let out a long sigh. "Of course there was. Then at least you fought a lot less with your brothers than you usually do last Thanksgiving," she said.

"You missed the big fight when you went out for more beer, and that time you were takin' a leak," he said.

"Forget I said anything," she said. She rubbed at her head. The night hadn't even started, and it was already shaping up to be a disaster.

Sophia pulled on a floral number which Colleen had let in for her. The nights had just started to get chilly, this could be her last sundress worn this year.

"You know, it's almost worth it."

"So you're saying you'd go through hell to see me in a sundress?" she asked.

"I'd go through hell to see you period, already have a couple times, in fact." What he was about to say was cut off as he took a deep breath. Liam tugged at his collar. "Is it supposed to make you not be able to breathe? Pretty sure you don't want me chokin' before dessert."

"Just take it for a little longer," she said.

"You'll be hidin' my body if you don't do somethin'," he said.

She reached to loosen his tie. "Is that better?"

"A bit," Liam said. "It's a shame these suits are so damn uncomfortable, because I look good enough to stun someone to death in 'em."

He grinned at the mirror, and spun around for her, showing off every inch.

"Not bad," she said.

"Hell yeah it ain't bad. You might even say it's _incredible,_ " Liam said.

"You know what else would be incredible? You not punching anyone out for a night. Especially not with the waiters," she said.

"If he's an ass, I'm punchin' him," Liam said petulantly.

"Good thing I'm heavily pregnant, then. That usually dissuades those pesky flirty waiters. Seriously, Liam. The doctor said no burying bodies until after the baby is born. You're just going to have to be patient, or at least not fight to the death. Remember, maim if you must, but _no killing_."

"You're goin' to _Doc_ for the baby stuff? He ain't even on this continent!"

"I had some questions that you can't exactly ask Dr. Parker. And the answer was no on all of them," Sophia said.

"Were any of them sexy?" Liam said.

"I asked your mother those, and she said it'd be fine until the very last months. Well, that and there's upsides to the third trimester as well," she said. She lifted her eyebrows suggestively. Few people but Liam ever got to see her this flirty.

Liam lifted his fist up in triumph. Not even the source of the information could dissuade him.

"That's fuckin' great news- pun intended -but, couldn't you just find some mafia doctor? They're a lot less likely to try and steal your kidney or give you extra organs, as a bonus. Did I ever tell you about the time he accidentally left his bird in my chest?" Liam said.

"You've told me that story so many times I've memorized it, right down to the number of times you screamed when he took his bird back without anesthesia. And you're probably right about him but he offered things outright when I last talked to him for work. I didn't even have to blackmail him this time."

"Always a plus, I guess," he said.

"Oh, definitely. With blackmail you always risk the person going rogue, or trying to double cross you or just kill you off instead. And considering that the Administrator made him the entirety of the TF Industries health plan a while ago, he isn't exactly a man to be trifled with."

Sophia had to stop herself. Explaining blackmail was just such a fun activity, sometimes she forgot that it wasn't the type of thing she could talk about in most everyday conversation. Thankfully Liam was usually better than random strangers whom she'd have to kill later. Though he was very, very bad at the keeping secrets back. With the kinds of company they kept, it hardly mattered.

7 PM

They'd chosen a French restaurant which might pass for a two star if bribery was involved. She was acquainted to it only by Spy's mutterings about how poor a representation of French food it was. He may have been a perfectionist and a snob, but that was hardly a winning review, especially given how many times he'd used the word "abomination" and "I've eaten better things from Soldier's stew pot―the one he wears on his head and lets his raccoons play in."

Her mother's hair was cut into a light brown bob that accented her sharp cheekbones. She leaned in for an air kiss--something that was thankfully absent in much of her own work. Like pleasantries, Sophia saw little point in these social niceties.

Her father wore an argyle sweater. His horn rim glasses had fogged over from the chilly September night. Liam scrunched up his nose.

"Can't believe he wore argyle, that's my thing," he muttered.

"You don't have a patent on argyle," she said under her breath. Liam's mouth twisted into a grimace.

"No, but I got a patent on awesome," Liam said. Except it wasn't under his breath. Her parents looked on in slight confusion, but didn't ask. They didn't persist, or question on a lot of things related to him.

"Sophia, it's been so long. Really, it's been _much_ too long since we've last seen you," she said.

"Work has kept me pretty busy," Sophia said.

"Ah, it's always work with you. You must've gotten that from your father," she said. The politeness faded from her voice just a bit, peeling back the mask from old fights.

When she turned to Liam, her smile, practiced as it was, faded entirely.

"..Liam," her mother said, pronounced like one would an insult. She gave him a curt nod. "I see you're here as well."

"Yeah, amazin'. You know what else? The sky is blue, and bears shit in the woods."

Less than three minutes in and Liam was already ready to fight.

They didn't respond, and didn't even pay him mind, which was about as bad as if they'd insulted his team, her and then thrown water in his face after calling him a wimpy man. They'd barely gotten past introductions, and Liam was already close to table flipping and making weapons out of the nearest wine bottles. As they sat down, Sophia rested her hand on Liam's thigh. There was little Liam hated more than not being paid attention to, and if it came from a dismissal of someone far richer than him, he'd be seconds away from breaking something---usually someone's nose.

She leaned in to whisper. _It's only a few hours. You can make it. I believe in you._

He let out a long sigh. "For you, Sophia," he said.

He never was good at whispering.

Her family wasn't full of the rough and loud affection that Liam's was, not that they would've embraced him even if they had been. They'd had plans for her, ones which didn't quite intersect with her own plans. When she'd found the adoption papers at age ten, she'd felt even more distant from this family she looked little like, and shared even less in common with.

They seemed almost relieved when she confronted them, as if there didn't need to be a charade anymore.

He picked up the menu and turned it over. Most of the menu didn't have translations. He grimaced as he held the offending object out, like it might bite him at any moment.

"What kind of frog speak is this? I don't wanna eat _snails_ ," Liam said.

"I'll order for you. Don't worry, Liam. I'll make sure there's no snails," she said. She patted his knee, another reassurance. She was certain it wouldn't be the last peacemaking attempt for the night. Her work ensured she had plenty of experience smoothing things over--and keeping Liam from batting in someone's skull.

"Not a surprise," her mother said under her breath. She flipped the pages. "Paris was far superior. Why did you choose this one?"

"The alternative was a 'clam shack,'" her father said. He pronounced it like someone holding a dirty object away from them.

"And the wine? Their menu is dreadfully lacking," her mother said.

"Wine? You're ordering that?" She looked up from her menu. French cuisine was a bit more complex than other potential restaurants as she was left mentally calculating which foods contained wine.

"We need to get through the dinner somehow, Sophia dear," her mother said.

"Actually, I'll just have water. In fact, both of us will," she said.

The last thing she needed was Liam drunkenly yelling insults at her parents, and then trying to hit them with cutlery and chairs. His temper was bad enough when he was sober.

"I wouldn't blame you for shying away from this menu. Substandard wine is a tragedy on par with Antigone," her father said.

"I could say the same of this restaurant, if I dare call it that," her mother said.

She'd made due with cheap teufort wine many nights after a long day's work. With hours like hers, she had to stop being picky. Be it whatever food was left on base, or whatever alcohol hadn't been finished off by the men.

Liam was bunching up his napkin over and over. His left eye had begun to twitch.

"Actually, I'm not having any wine because― well, I'm pregnant," she said.

Her mother dropped her fork, openly gaping for several seconds. Her father had a far off stare, the kind she'd only seen on truly tragic occasions, like them running out of wine.

"Yep, I knocked her up," Liam said. “Also, she's married to me, in case you forgot. She's my _wife_ , so that technically makes you both my parents. Ain't that right, _mom_ and _dad?_ ”

"Liam," Sophia said under her breath.

"Soph, I _tried_ bein' a gentleman, it ain't workin'!"

Her mother cleared her throat. "When is it… due?" she asked.

"About the end of the year," Sophia said.

"Well, your mother and I will be traveling about that time, but of course we'll send a card."

Liam clutched his glass so hard that she was surprised it wouldn't break. He'd been jiggling his left leg even more restlessly than usual. She laid her hand on his back to steady him, and hopefully keep him from violence.

"Don't worry about it," Sophia said. “You can always come visit her later. She isn't going anywhere-- hopefully, anyways.”

"Or never," Liam said under his breath.

She gave Liam a sideways glance. Even if she technically agreed with the sentiment, it was one better left unsaid.

"Her?" Sophia's father asked.

"Yes, I've known for a few months, but it was something I really wanted to tell in person," Sophia said. “Plus, I was busy with work.”

"It's always work with you," Sophia's mother said.

Liam rested his hand on her stomach. "I'll do it for you both," he said under his breath.

"She's a lot better about that, though. She used to work so hard, harder than anybody I ever knew. Anybody else would've burned out before a week was done, but she kept up like a real trooper," Liam said.

His anger hadn't faded, but he'd somehow channeled his charm into his favorite subject: her.

The whole table had a collective sigh of relief as the waiter arrived with the wine.

 

8 PM

Liam tossed his tie aside. For once, she didn't bother to mention his carelessness. The night had taken its toll on both of them. She took off her coat and hung it beside the door, and left her heels near the coat rack. She'd ruined hundreds of pantyhose in her life; one more wouldn't change much.

"I'm just glad your dad didn't try and call the cops on me or somethin'," Liam said. “Try and dig up some crap and frame me and have me arrested. He probably would.”

"To be fair, he wouldn't have to frame you," she said. “I'm sure you have plenty of crimes you'd be guilty of. Either way, I'd bail you out and get the charges thrown away.”

" _Still,_ that man don't like me at all. Your ma ain't too fond of me, either. They weren't too happy to hear they're gettin' a grandkid."

"'I knocked her up' isn't exactly the best way to break the news."

"It's true, though. What, was I supposed to sugarcoat it? ‘Oh, Soph and I had a child of _love!_ ’" He drew out the word “love” in a falsetto voice and rolled his eyes. "I'm not goin' to pretend like I don't fuck you, geez. I fuck you _all_ the time, and I'd gladly tell the whole damn world how lucky I am."

"Please don't. Save the screaming my name for the bedroom.”

Liam smiled; he did plenty of screaming in there anyways. One of these days, she was going to get around to soundproofing their entire apartment.

He slipped into his chair with a sigh, uncaring that he might wrinkle his suit. It hardly mattered anyways. He'd already spilled sauce on the side, something that would take the laundromat at least a week to get out. She'd lost the fight of looks versus comfort, and now the entire decor of the apartment was marred by one plaid chair among the hated 70s decor. Like the LSD daydream of a businessman, the browns and oranges always managed to turn her stomach.

Liam let out another long sigh. "They ain't never gonna be won over, are they? Like I could do everythin' right, and they'd still look down on me."

"You won _me_ over, shouldn't that be all that matters?"

Liam ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I can't get the perfect girl without gettin' the in-laws from hell. Some kind of unwritten law of the universe or somethin'."

"I got lucky and you got the evil in-laws. But your mother is the one we see most of all, so it all evens out.”

"Ma may be great, but you also get the asshole as part of that package in-law deal."

"Oh, I've dealt with him for years. He's actually much better behaved with Colleen to keep him in line."

"Yeah, she's good at keepin' people in line, that's for sure…” There was a brief pause. “You know, even if they don't appreciate you, you'll always be a Dempsey."

 _Dempsey_. The word was like a comforting blanket about her shoulders. She took off her fitted cream white wool coat, and hung the filmy white scarf on the coat rack just above it.

"Thanks. I guess I'm just the black sheep of the family." She paused with her thin gloves. Reopened old wounds always stung. And here she thought she'd gotten over those petty fights, those insecurities. But there they were, always just underneath the surface.

"You got siblings? You never mentioned them."

It was a luxury to be able to share things again. Often, she forgot that she was no longer locked to code names, and ordered to keep all identifying details about herself secret.

"Oh, they were born long before I was. We're not close at all. They were just these older strangers at family gatherings. I'm adopted, actually."

"Adopted?"

"Yeah. I looked into it. Sealed records, completely cold trail." She cleared her throat. "I actually even tried to get Spy to work his magic, but nothing. Whoever I'm related to wanted to ensure I never found out. There's always been something kind of odd about that, like I was an unplanned adoption, though I know that's an oxymoron. I don't really understand it, but I've given up trying to."

She put her gloves in the pocket of her coat and undid her boots. Bending was harder now. Even putting on socks was something that required help.

At least this would only last a few more months.

"My family had plans for me and I went and became a hired killer, though they don't know about that part," Sophia continued. “They think I'm just a secretary, and that you're just a dropout from the projects. I don't exactly share that we're millionaires. It's hard to explain a salary like that.”

"I'm sure their plans for you sucked. Ain't their job to try and plan your life like you're some kind of mini-them. And some boring doctor? _Please_. You got the best, and so did I.”

"Their plans for me were pretty dire. Pearls and marrying high, a socialite life, a college education in humanities done for show. From what I hear, they did the same to my siblings, so it's nothing much." She pushed her hair back, and undid the bobby pins one by one. "I might have even done it, too, had I not gotten into that Mann Co. early program just when I was looking for my Undergrad program. Fate and all that."

Liam made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. "What is this, the friggin' eighteen hundreds? I can't deal with anyone who isn't one-hundred percent completely happy to have you in their family. Like, how could they disapprove of you? You're _you_. You're awesome and kickin' it. How the hell can anyone not be okay with this?"

"Well, father wanted me to get a different degree, so it's not completely out there. They just didn't see me having such a manual job, though they don't know _how_ manual, and um, blood-spattered it is. They didn't expect me to marry a guy with a criminal record straight out of the projects, either."

"You missed a few words in there. Like _sexy_ criminal record, extremely handsome, charmin', _millionaire_ and literally the catch of the century. Hell, I want to marry myself now."

"I'm sure you would if you could."

"Too busy bein' married to you." He patted his lap. "Now c’mon, take a rest with me. I ain't gotten to touch you nearly enough tonight."

"Have you seen me lately? I'll crush you to death.”

"Come on, you ain't that big, just more round. Guys like curves. I can confirm, I _am_ one."

"It looks like I'm trying to steal a watermelon. Besides, I need to get something."

"Hungry again?"

She nodded. "I'm eating for two. And this one has one hell of an appetite. She must've gotten that from you. I hope she got your metabolism."

"What, more pickles and ice cream and, like, whipped cream on fried rice?"

"That was _one_ time, and it wasn't even pickles and ice cream. And for the record, peanut butter and noodles are delicious together.”

Liam chuckled. "It's good to see you eatin'... you always eat like a bird, and that's no good. Bring me some while you're in the kitchen!"

“I'd kill for your metabolism. You could eat a whole carton of ice cream and not gain a pound."

"What can I say? I work it off. You can always go runnin' with me anytime. Or you know, _other_ fun exercisin'."

"Like jogging?" she asked dryly.

"Yeah! And aerobics! Also sex, sex is totally on the table. But not that one, we'll fall off."

She laughed and shook her head as she took those steps towards the kitchen; a walk which was much harder now that she was walking for two. In the kitchen, she pulled out some chips and an entire thing of salsa. _Salty_ was the flavor of the moment. Spicy was acceptable, too. Sometimes she'd suddenly have the strangest cravings, like to drink soy sauce straight from the bottle, a spoonful of nothing but coconut oil, or a loaf of bread with nothing on it. She carried the bags of corn chips out to the living room. Any crumbs could be vacuumed up later, after all. As far as she was concerned, the extra cushions were worth the extra clean up.

Just as she set the chips out on the coffee table, she paused and put her hand to her belly.

“Oh…”

"Is somethin' wrong?" Liam asked out of concern.

"No, she's just being active again."

"Wait, is the baby kicking? Lemme feel!"

He leapt up, nervous and excited all in one. She guided his hand to her stomach. "Hey, I feel it! This one's bound to be a runner! Seriously, a _champion_. I always knew I'd have the coolest kids."

He fell to his knees and rested his head against her swollen stomach. She ran her hand through his hair in gentle strokes as he listened to her body.

"Y'know what?”

“What?”

“I like you better when you’re like this."

"Chubby with bloated feet and eating everything in sight?"

"Like I'm goin' to complain that your tits are bigger, I mean _come on_."

"All of me is bigger. I can't even roll over or sleep on my stomach."

"I know, it's wonderful. We're goin' to have a ton of kids. Just imagine it, enough of them to have a whole baseball team together―fightin' and terrorizin' the whole city. It’ll be a new age of Dempseys."

"Uh-huh. We'll get on that as soon as you start helping me with the _carrying_ of them.”

"Do piggybacks count?"

"No."

"Damn. Well, babe, if I could, I would. Just for you. It'd be the manliest frickin' baby ever."

She rested her hand on his head. "If that didn't break all laws of science and nature, I'm sure it would be."

She rubbed at her back. Already, a pain had started to radiate upwards from her lower back.

"Oh yeah, rest yourself. Bein' preggers really wears you out, huh?"

She sat down on the couch, and tried to get comfortable. At this stage, this was getting more and more difficult with each month that went by. "You have no idea."

Liam settled down against her.

"Think it'll sound like the ocean if I put my head there?"

"If she's anything like you, I think it's more likely you'll hear her telling you to fuck off. Well, either that or she’ll probably kick you in the face."

"Oh God, she _totally_ would learn to flip someone off before she learned 'dada.'"

They shared a moment of laughter with all these awful possibilities.

"I bet she's goin' to run before she can walk-- I bet we're goin' to have to bolt down every frickin' thing. Everythin'! I know ma had to when I was born. She said I had a natural gift for gettin' into trouble."

"Okay, that's one thing I hope skips generations."

Another series of kicks made that possibility less and less likely. Liam rubbed another soothing series of strokes across her abdomen.

"I wish I'd known you sooner, so I could've told you sooner."

"That you'd carry my baby in some mockery of modern science that Erich probably could achieve if he put some effort into it?"

"Nah, everythin'. Just think, we could've been married for like ten years instead of two.”

"You spent high school lighting farts, flirting with any girl within a ten mile radius, shoving other students into lockers, and getting expelled constantly. That didn't change much when you went into Mann Co. except you then moved on to getting arrested. It's probably for the best that we didn't meet until we did.”

"If I ever get a time machine, I'm doin' that. Well, that and makin' a friggin' _ton_ on the lottery."

"Don't forget to invest in the stock market. You'll know exactly what companies will rise in the next decades. I'd personally advise investing in Mann Co. You could prevent the robot wars from ending like they did simply by buying up so much stock that Saxton didn't have as much control in the company.”

"See, this is why you're wonderful, you got all the plans. Well, one of them. I'd go on the rest, but we'd be here for the better part of a month. Good thing I got the rest of my life to do it.” He patted her stomach. "And when she's born, I'll tell her all about how great you are every single day."

"And then, knowing you, you'll tell her how great _you_ are, likely on a daily basis. Wait, make that an _hourly_ basis."

"Damn straight, I will. I'm totally rehearsin' for when she finally shows up."

"I can always count on you to brag for hours. It's some kind of Guinness World Record talent you've got for talking about yourself there."

"What can I say, Soph? I always gotta be the best."

"Well, you certainly win when it comes to the gift of gab."

Liam's face lit up. "Wait-- what if _she's_ like that too?"

"Oh God, I will never have a moment of quiet again."

"Hell yeah, screw that stupid quiet! Every day is goin' to be a party!" He wrapped his arms about her even tighter, nuzzled against her dark hair.

"That's what I'm afraid of. Never a dull moment, I guess."

"Nope! I'm goin' to dedicate my life to make sure you are _never_ bored, not even for a second, no matter how much shit I gotta break."

"Breaking the furniture isn't going to help, Liam. I mean, I suppose it would be startling, but that's not how to keep everything interesting."

"Babe, I'm talkin' about people's noses and skulls."

"Oh, I should've known." She tapped his nose with shades of affection and mock scolding. "Remember, you have to keep all your bloodshed until after the baby comes."

"Yeah, no buryin' bodies until after, I know, I know."

She rested her head against him. After a rough night, she had finally begun to unwind. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. Her stomach let out a gurgling noise.

"Liam, I'm going to start gnawing on your arm if I don't get anything else to eat."

"Oh, shit yeah. Chip away, babe." Liam pulled open the bag like he was doing some herculean feat. At least this time, the chips didn't go all over the room in an explosion of hubris and bad choices.

She leaned forward to dig into the bag.

"Just a couple more months." He dug in for a few corn chips of his own.

"You're right, though."

"Yeah, I totally am." Liam smirked, only to break off from his usual egotistical reverie with a look of pure confusion. "Wait, what? What am I right about again?"

"Waking up with you for ten years would've been nice. But we'll still make it. Here's to the next ten, and the next ten after that..." She held up her chip like they were making a toast.

"And every year after that ever."

They clinked corn chips together. Salsa dripped to the carpet, and over the table. The old worries and old hurts were pushed back into their old scarred places. After all, Liam always ensured that all attention was on him; he was always too busy making her smile to ever linger long on the past.

*

September 2nd, 1977. _Liam with several bags of tangerines. Scrawled across the back was "Making puns wasn't enough, he had to pose with them as well.”_

9 AM

The curtains were drawn. She didn't call out for him when he came to the door, so startled at the sight of her that he clutched the knob tight.

"Babe? You're still here? You're _never_ still here.” There was uncertainty in his voice.

She tossed another used tissue into the almost overflowing trash can.

"I have a cold," she said. She sniffed. Her voice had turned unusually nasal. A well of pressure throbbed from her temples to the bridge of her nose, only worsening an hour-long migraine.

"A cold?" The uncertainty in his voice only grew. He sat on the side of the bed.

"Don't worry, I called Medic. He said it's fine for the baby as long as I don't get a fever. Well, that and I can't take most medicine.” She blew stray black hairs out of her face. "No caffeine, no alcohol, and now no medicine. What a pain in the ass."

Liam leaned in to rest the back of his hand against her forehead. "Hmm, you don't feel hot, but you sure look it." He leaned in to kiss her nose.

"You're going to get my cold. Also, you obviously need glasses."

He plucked her glasses up off the nightstand and put them on his face.

"Nope, I can't see shit. Except you; you're a pretty cute blur over there.”

"A cute blur, huh?"

"The _cutest_. Can you believe this'll be your first sick day?"

"What a great milestone, huh?" She sneezed into a Kleenex. "I'm _totally_ going to put this down on my bucket list. Mmmhmmm."

"I ain't on call today; Ol' Hale is off punchin' up a storm across the world. I'll pick somethin' up for you."

Sophia pulled the covers on a little tighter. Even with three layers of blankets, she still felt chilled.

"Ugh, I can't punch this one away. Wish I could, though. Damn. Anythin' you need in particular?"

Sophia groaned and turned towards him. "Soups, citrus, orange juice… I always eat a lot of soup when I'm sick. Well, technically I'd take a bottle of alcohol and pour some BONK into it. Demo suggested it as a remedy, but I can't have any now."

"Oh yeah, The Scottish Spankin'. That stuff will make you friggin' fly off the walls like you're a rocket with fire shootin' out your ass! He made me some when I was sick. He always makes the best remedies."

"Well, that's out of the question now. I'm not sure he even makes it anymore, not with his recent adventures in sobriety.”

"Naw, it's okay. I'll go get you somethin' so good that it puts The Scottish Spankin' to _shame_."

"I bet you will."

He puffed up, almost like he would flex in triumph for a moment. Even that small amount of praise was like rocket fuel to his ego.

"It'll be the best stuff ever, promise. Though bein' married to me, you're already used to the best stuff!" He leaned to kiss her cheek, before he rushed out, filled with new determination to bring back her very own tonic.

Liam never could take being second place in anything, even when the people around him were masters of their trade. Years around mercenaries meant he'd gotten many broken bones as thanks for his "helpful advice." Still, Liam never learned.

11 AM

She awoke in stages to the sound of rustling and clattering in the kitchen. It wasn't long before he was coming back again, his arms full of bags. He bent to pull out an entire netted bag of fruit with _Cuties_ written on the tag, just above a smiling anthropomorphic tangerines.

"Need a cutie?” he asked. “Too late, you already are!"

Liam set the entire bag aside, and chuckled to himself as he peeled off the peel and dropped each bright orange piece of rind into the garbage. He held the tangerine out to her. It looked almost like a flower in his palm.

"I'm surprised you didn't tape them to your biceps and try and flex the cold away," she deadpanned.

"Man, you have the _best_ ideas. Oh, and ma's comin' over with her special chicken noodle and garlic soup, with extra garlic. Called her this mornin' with my usual mornin' call and she said she'd brew it right up. I gotta say, vampires sure won't get anywhere near you with this stuff. Ma uses two whole cloves, plus an onion. I almost got no sick days, because ma kept givin' me this. Plus my immune system is almost as freakishly handsome as I am."

For once, she kept quiet about Colleen overstaying her welcome with her hospitality. The quilt was pulled up to her chin with only her fingers curled about the top edge.

"You need another blanket or somethin'?"

"If I have anymore, I'll be buried under them and probably start sweating. Did you put away the rest of the groceries?"

"Yup, all of them. We got so many tangerines, that cold is goin' to get dropkicked in the _balls_." Liam mimicked a very small karate chop.

She didn't have the heart to tell him that wasn't how dropkicking worked.

"Yes, that's exactly how the human immune system works."

"Totally the scientific term." He popped one of the pieces of citrus into his mouth. "Good stuff. We should get sick more often. Just think of the sick days spent together."

"There's nothing quite as romantic as snot dripping down your face as you're trying to make out… and then having to take vomiting breaks."

"Eh, I'd still do it."

"I know you would."

Sophia took a bite of citrus and grimaced. "Ugh, I can barely taste this. It's juicy, though."

"You'll be tastin' it once ma gets her soup in here. No more sick days for you, so you best enjoy today."

"If you can call a mountain of used Kleenexes enjoying it."

"Hey, I'll pamper you until she comes here. It'll be like every other day, but with more coughing and sneezing."

"I'll repay the favor when you catch my cold… for the whole fifteen minutes I have before I go to work."

"Deal." He climbed under the covers with her.

Sophia didn't have to worry about being cold anymore.

October 15th, 1977. _A scribbled doodle of a baseball and sun on yellowed paper._

She shifted, pulling the dark covers over her. He was very forgiving of her constant blanket stealing, even if she'd left him without anything but pajamas in Coldfront more than once.

"Go to sleep," Liam muttered.

He reached for the blanket and finally settled to curling as close as he could to her. Quite some feat, given that he was always nuzzled up as close as he could manage.

She sighed and tried unsuccessfully to find a comfortable spot. The baby’s ever-shifting positions made that nigh impossible, however. Liam shifted with her, ensuring that there was never too much distance between their bodies.

"Your child thinks now is a good time to practice for marathons." She squinted at the bedside clock. "At 3 AM, no less."

This was enough to fully wake him. He pushed up her black t-shirt and rested his hand on her swollen abdomen. Despite his fairly lean frame, Liam was perpetually warm. This was a blessing for her in the winter months and a curse in the summer, as he always wanted to sleep close, even when it was ninety degrees out and the air conditioner was broken again.

"This is so amazin'." His voice was filled with awe. He rubbed soft little circles around her navel. "You tryin' to jailbreak already, littlest Dempsey? I know you're excited to get out, and so am I. I'm just real friggin' thrilled you're goin' to be runnin' with me, but your ma needs some sleep or she'll get real cranky. I mean, like, _real cranky_. Mass grave with all us guys and an explosion in the distance cranky. Why don't you take a breather and let her rest, okay? You can't keep her up all night."

He rubbed his hand over her navel in slow motions. The kicking soon lulled into peace. Liam leaned his head against her stomach, listening intently like the child might whisper secrets through her skin.

"See, that's _much_ better." Liam traced a heart across her stomach. "I know you wanna be your dad's slugger. My little champ. As soon as you spring out of there, I'll take you to the park."

"You can't throw baseballs to a newborn, Liam."

"Hey, I'm pretty good at waitin'. I mean, I sure as hell waited for you and I had to wait a _long_ time, but boy was it worth it."

He laughed to himself. By now it wasn't just a declaration of love, but a fond memory. Through the years, the pain, the constant threat of death, he'd waited for her. She reached down to trace her thumb down the back of his neck.

"I would've done it again, too. Would've waited ten more, no, a _hundred_ more years if that was what it took to get to here. Maybe even a thousand more.”

"I'm glad you didn't have to wait that long."

"Me too. I mean, I did it, but it was _hard_. I wanted to be spending all that time with you... but really, though, I bet this one is going to be tryin' to run with me. Mark my words on that."

"I wouldn't be surprised. It feels like she's done nothing but bounce about in there for the past three months."

"Already practicin' for runnin' to home plate.”

Just the mention of baseball was enough to get her moving again. There was a throbbing ache at her back, just mere inches from one of her kidneys, and a kick inside like a persistent drumbeat. So much for her child being convinced to sleep.

"There she goes again," Sophia murmured.

"Don’t worry, I got this," Liam assured her.

He reached into the white end table at the side of the bed. There was some rustling noise as he sorted through--- and likely made a complete mess of ---papers, pencils, among other things. What he came out with was a red pen. He began to make several scribbles across her stomach.

He drew remarkably quickly, in a cartoonish way, like a thousand doodles she'd seen on official papers and contracts over the years. The pictures of Spy being forced to wash his mask had long turned to idly doodled hearts and stars.

On her skin, he sketched a sun at her navel, a little field and house with a family on the side, and what she thought was a dog on the other side. For some reason, it was a superhero family, complete with capes and masks. Even the baby had one.

He capped the pen and laid his head on her stomach, smearing color on his cheek. "Is it workin'?"

"Well, she hasn't moved in a while. Just don't mention any sports again."

"I'm tellin' you, this kid is goin' to be just like me. I know a future Red Sox fan when I see 'em."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"If she's anythin' like I was as a kid, she's going to keep you up all night."

"I'll say. It's getting harder to sleep now, even if I am exhausted most of the time. Your daughter keeps wanting to go on late night runs.”

"Yeah, you seem worn out lately. Is that a preggers thing? You used to get pretty worn down back then, too.”

"Well, after a while, that's what happens when you get one day a year vacations that never seem to actually come."

"But you finally got time off, and all I had to do was get you knocked up to do it. Though I would've stolen plenty of briefcases if it meant you got to take even one more day off."

"And I would've had to kill you eventually."

"And when I got outta Respawn, my first words would've been 'great shot.'"

She chuckled and rested her head against him.

"Alright, sweetie. You just let your ma get some rest and I'll go buy you your first ball and mitt."

"It's a little early to be stocking up on baseball equipment, don’t you think?"

"Joke's on you, babe. It's _never_ too early for baseball.”

He never came home without something for her or for the child now growing within her. She already had a pile of sports supplies and shoes they wouldn't need for years to come. At this rate, they'd have to move just to find enough room for the child's things.

If she didn't already keep a tight grip on the purse strings in their family, he probably would've put them in debt over tiny baseball cleats. He was always a little too giving with his money. He'd overtip to show off, was sporadic at best when it came to grocery shopping, and if she didn't check to make sure he had the list, he came home with nothing more than sugary cereal and three packs of beer.

Shopping with him was always an adventure, as he'd find beauty even in the mundane.

He tapped on her stomach. "Drum solo."

With the way their daughter was kicking, it felt like she was doing a drum solo of her own.

"You're _ridiculous,_ " Sophia squeaked. “You know that?”

"Yeah, _ridiculously in love with you_." He rolled back, laughing at his own joke so hard that she was worried he might fall off the bed.

He didn't, largely because she caught his arm. She bent down to pull him into a headlock. When she got him close enough, she snatched the pen from his hands and drew a red ink mustache on his face.

"Ugh, don't turn me French."

"Just for that, I'm giving you a goatee."

She pulled him even closer and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which left her lips red with ink and smudged fake facial hair.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. _"Sexy French words."_

She couldn't contain the laughter this time. So much for drowsiness and sleep. She just took in the utterly absurd moment together and savored it while it lasted. "Ridiculous."

"Ridiculously _sexy_."

"Ridiculous in every sense of the word."

"Then that means I'm also ridiculously wonderful, handsome, awesome, magnificent, great, and all those other words. Huh? Huh?" He waggled his eyebrows.

She giggled a bit. "You've got me there," she said softly.

"And there." He put his arms around her and kissed the back of her neck. "There too… you want me to count you some sheep?"

"Go ahead, maybe it'll lull us both to sheep, I mean sleep."

She closed her eyes as he described all the fluffy sheep he could think of. Many of them got names and even backstories. By the time their daughter was born, she was sure the sheep would have whole kingdoms.

It only just now struck her that her insomnia had become rare, where it'd once been standard. With happiness, she'd forgotten the sleepless nights when she'd trek home after a long mission to an empty apartment, and still be too exhausted to sleep.

"Sixty sheep, this one's name is Celia, and we love her, sixty one sheep, this one's Greg, and he has a drinkin' problem, we're all gonna have an intervention for him soon. Sixty-two is a real winner, called Sara, and she's the fluffiest sheep of all. She's got awards and everythin'...."

His voice was soft, and his breath warm against her neck. She drifted off into dreamless sleep.

 

October 31st, 1977 _The first photo of many family coordinated Halloween costumes. The theme for this one was skeletons._

3:30 PM

Liam had been stocking up on candy for weeks. At first, she'd simply assumed it was his usual sweet tooth, but it was only when he pulled out ten bags of them and poured all the contents into the biggest metal bowl he could find that she remembered Halloween had a function other than Merasmus coming out from the depths of debtor hell to try and kill them again. He'd pulled on a skeleton suit underneath his _Star Wars_ shirt.

"See? See this? Totally a spooky scary skeleton here."

"Are you preparing for trick or treaters?" Sophia asked.

"Yeah, 'tis the season, give me free candy and all.”

"I don't think many children are going to come up several flights of stairs to an apartment."

"Well, there's gotta be some from down the hall, right? Then they'll come our way and before they know it, bam! Candy, _right in their faces!_ " Liam punched his fist into his palm.

"Our neighbors are mostly elderly."

"So then... maybe we should go to the streets and give it out? Or make signs?" Liam was sounding a little more panicked now.

"Liam… I really don't think that's going to work. People will assume you're some kind of drug peddler or worse...”

"Aw, jeez. I just wanna have lots of practice and give candy out to kids. Is that so bad? I mean, I guess we could eat it together, but it won't be the same..." Liam looked down to his metal bowl. She hadn't seen him this downcast since the last time his team lost another shot at the pennant.

"I'm sure Colleen will have plenty towards her house, right?"

"Oh yeah! She's always shooin' my brothers out because they steal the candy, so she'll welcome the help!"

Liam unzipped his duffel bag and poured all the candy inside. Despite it all, the bag still wasn't stuffed, so he slipped another five bags worth of Snickers in there.

"Good God, are you preparing for trick or treaters or the apocalypse?"

"I mean, considerin' my brothers always sneak tons, I really should've gotten more."

"Only your brothers, huh?"

"Gotta keep my strength up for the trick or treaters," Liam zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. She supposed with the amount he was sure to sneak, it evened out in the end.

3:45 PM

"Hey, maaaa!" Liam held his arms out for a hug, but stopped when he got a glance of her outfit. She wore a green skirt and pearls over a seashell bra. The sides of her skirt flowed out like a mermaid tail. "Whoa, aren't you cold?"

She waved his concern away. "Oh, I'm fine," Colleen replied. “I'm mostly indoors anyways. Ain't you a bit old for trick or treatin'?”

"I'm young at heart," Liam said. He stole into the candy bowl and shoved it in his pocket before she could stop him. "Besides, I'm practicin' for when I got kids of my own."

"I saw that."

Liam held up his bag. "No problem, ma. I got tons of reinforcements. I just really wanted some Mounds. Forgot to buy any of those, and I _love_ me some Mounds."

"I always thought you were more of a milk chocolate kind of guy," Sophia said.

"He just loves sayin' the words and makin' perverted jokes," Colleen cut in. “Like grandma, like grandson, eh?”

Liam snickered. "Guilty as charged."

"Come in, come in, my tits are goin' to freeze off if we just keep yappin' out here. And Liam always was extremely good at yappin'."

They came in through the door, the October chill momentarily shut away behind them. The tree in the backyard still had a few glorious orange leaves that the fall rains hadn't blown away. Through the kitchen windows, she could just see the tree's last stand.

"Liam stocked up, but there aren't many trick or treaters that many floors up. He was so disappointed."

"Well, yeah, this is prime practicin'. It sucked on ice that we can't do it back at our place, but here, there'll be _tons_. Tons and tons, and I can scope out the costumes for when this little Dempsey baby comes around."

"That's all well, but neither of you are going in costumes? I never thought I'd see the day when Liam didn't use any excuse to run around in a cape."

Sophia's hands rested at her stomach. "I guess I could go as a blob from outer space... or a pregnant woman."

"Oh, you just have to incorporate it into the costume, that’s all. For this one, I was a watermelon. I painted my stomach and everythin'."

"A watermelon? Jeez, silly! It's really been too long, ma!" He pulled her into a hug.

"Careful about the make up, I spent a lot of time on it. ‘Sides that, it's only been less than a week."

"I know, right? Way too long."

She brushed the back of his neck. "You need a haircut, silly. Oh, and some of your clothes got mixed up with mine in the wash. There was an old Halloween costume, some painted bones, some black clothes."

Liam's face lit up. "I was lookin' for those! Thanks, ma!"

"Remember, don't eat too much candy now, even if you did bring more. Heaven knows you don't want to spend all of the night with a stomach ache, or pukin' your guts out."

"No problem! I bought extra and I'm goin' to give it to so many little talkin' Frances!"

A phone rang from the kitchen and Colleen went in from the cold. On the step, Liam turned to Sophia with renewed vigor.

"Hey, hey, hey! I got an _idea._ You could have a costume, too! You could be my skeleton wife, we could _bone_."

Liam laughed loudly at his own joke, hard enough to the point where he had to lean on to the door. "Oh God, that was some classic genius there. They should write my quotes down. Guaranteed bestseller right there."

"That is the worst line I've ever heard. And considering all the lines I've heard from you, that's something.”

"Hey, I finally hit rock bottom! Come on, gimme five!" He raised up his hand.

She laughed, but gave him the high-five anyway. After this many years of knowing each other, the fact that he could still make awful puns and creatively bad come-ons was some kind of twisted talent.

"I'm sure I can find some more to fit you, and some fast dryin' paint. Bam, spooky scary skeleton wife!"

"If I wear the costume, are you going to make bone puns all night long?"

Liam put his hand over his heart in mock solemnity. "I promise I will make the worst bone puns all night. And by the worst, I mean the _best_."

"You're probably going to keep digging and find even worse lines."

"Oh, I'll be _diggin'_ , all right! Only the best, I mean worst, for my bone wife."

"Do your worst, just don't give yourself a stomachache from eating too much."

"Too busy drawin'. Art is life, babe. Skeleton life, that is!" Liam lifted his arms up in triumph as he finally went inside.

4 PM

Finding a matching black shirt and skirt wasn't too hard. Liam painted out the delicate white lines with quick, accurate strokes. He'd always had a surprising artistic flair that he'd done little with, except whenever he would doodle on diner napkins or make crude drawings of his teammates just to bother them.

But it was at the middle of the long-sleeved shirt that he started the smallest strokes. Even without a reference handy, he'd done quite a good little skeleton to complete the set.

Even through the painter's mask, she could see his smile from the crinkle of his eyes as he put the last touches on the child skeleton.

"You better not introduce us as ‘Mr. and Mrs. Boned.’"

"Nah, I'll just say 'the knee bone connects to the thigh bone-- and this bone is for the wife!’" He laughed so hard that he couldn't even manage a proper pelvic thrust to complete the ridiculous line.

"It's official, you've hit rock bottom and now you’re digging your way to bad pun hell."

"Oh yeah, I am goin' to unseat Michael, rule bad pun hell, and make you my queen. Well, I mean you're already mine, but you'll be friggin' _royalty_."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested them on her abdomen.

"Just think. In a couple more months, it's goin' to be a lot louder around here."

"I've already heard horror stories from your mother. We're going to have to buy ear plugs for the entire floor.”

"Make that the entire _buildin'_ and you'll be a lot closer." Liam broke off with a shocked expression as he put his palm to her stomach. "Whoa, is that a hand? Did I--I almost hold hands with my little girl before she was born?"

"I can't tell, she's moving so fast. I think she's breakdancing again." Sophia tried to stretch to ease the ache in her back. Even moving around was turning into a hassle, especially with her equilibrium offset.

"Hey, little Dempsey. What do clouds wear? _Thunderwear_."

It sure hadn't taken him long to switch from awful pick up lines to awful dad joke puns. Liam laughed and laughed, far more than the joke warranted. Given how much her child was moving, she'd like to think that she was laughing too.

"Don’t worry, I got tons more where that came from." Liam let go and knelt before her. He leaned to kiss her stomach, only to quickly draw back and rub at his mouth. "What the fu--?! That little shit just kicked me in the friggin' mouth! She ain't even born yet and she's already tryin' to pick a fight!"

"That really solves who she's going to resemble." She could already see visions of herself chasing after a child with boundless energy.

"It's goin' to be _amazin'._ There's goin' to be a little person that's a little bit me and a little bit you. She'll be fast and charmin' like me, and gorgeous like the both of us."

"There's still a few years before we can tell about those… though I bet she'll be energetic. I swear, she has barely stopped kicking for the past four months."

"Okay, little bone baby. I'll pay you back for that later on." He kissed Sophia's stomach one last time, though this time he didn't get a kick for it.

6 PM

Sophia was genuinely surprised about how soon the paint dried, though she shouldn't have been. Liam had so little patience for anything slow that Sophia had slipped on the painted jogging suit. It only took one dark hallway to realize the paint was glow in the dark.

"Lookin' good! Though, if you think this is somethin', you should see the kinds of things I got planned for Smissmass!"

"Matching ugly sweaters?" Sophia asked.

"Oh, God, yes. We are goin' to hit every sweater party in the city and kick all those other tacky sweaters' asses! We will have the ugliest sweaters on the two hottest people ever." When a knock at the door came, breaking off his Smissmiss plans, Liam broke into a huge smile.

"Oh, kids are here!" He leaned in to give her one last kiss before he rushed to the door. "Movin' through, I got it! Michael, get out of the candy bowl, I got kids to give that to!"

He held out the bowl so fast that the little ghosts and pirates drew back in fright.

"Oh, no need to worry, kids. I'm a _good_ skeleton. See, I give out candy. And beatings, but only to bad guys. Like people who don't pay my boss."

He held out the candy.

"Nice costume there. Arrr, matey.”

"Arrr?" the child sounded. His hat and beard were made of cardboard.

"Arrr!" Liam said back. He waved as the children as they uncertainly moved towards the next house. "Come again next year! The candy's goin' to be even better, I swear!"

"Dad lessons," Liam said and nodded to himself. "I am goin' to be the coolest dad ever."

 _Or at least the most aggressive,_ she thought.

"Speakin' of daddin', c'mere!" He held out his hand towards her stomach. "C'mon, tap my fist, littlest Dempsey."

"I think it'll take at least a few more months before she can brofist you."

"Never too late to start practicin'. I gotta keep my dad game super fresh and awesome."

He leaned down to nuzzle against. "And you'll be the bone princess." He looked up in complete wonder. "Next year, we can all go in matchin' costumes again! Oh shit, I gotta plan it!"

He pulled out a notebook from his duffel bag and started jotting down ideas.

"I think you have some time."

"Hey, I can't wait for you to get here, littlest Dempsey. We are goin' to have so much fun together, and I'm goin' to get you a pony!"

"Where would we keep a pony in the city?"

"I don't know, we'll buy a bigger apartment--- we'll find a way."

She slipped a piece of chocolate in her mouth and thought for a moment. By the time she'd finished the sweet confection, a plan had come to her. "I suppose we could rent from one of the stables. Or we could buy some stables, somewhere in the country."

"See, see, you always have the best ideas!"

"It's best to start out with a stuffed pony. There's no chance of her getting kicked by one of those."

"Okay, fine, but one day I am goin' to buy my kid a whole _herd_ of ponies. I will personally bat in the skull of whoever I need to until I get my kid a sparkly unicorn."

She squeezed his hand. "I know you would, though you'd have to fight off Saxton Hale for it. You know how much he loves punching wildlife."

"Dammit, leave my future unicorns alone," Liam muttered. He jotted some more things down in his notebook.

Sophia went back to the kitchen to get a drink of water. Even two rooms away, she could hear Liam's enthusiasm for the next batch of trick or treaters.

11 PM

The children had all gone home, but Liam was still buzzing with energy. It wasn’t much of a surprise, given the amount of candy he'd consumed throughout the night. Sophia, on the other hand, was filled with an entirely different kind of energy. According to the books, it was all supposed to get better by the third trimester. The morning sickness was supposed to have let up by then, but instead of going away, it somehow managed to get even worse. She couldn't help but wonder if her daughter's constant moving had anything to do with it.

Sophia had been sipping on ginger ale for hours, but it'd done little to help, so she'd turned in.  
She touched her stomach and shook her head.

"Whoa, your stomach is doin' stuff," Liam murmured.

"I swear she's doing backflips in there," she said.

"Oh man, seriously? I have the _coolest_ baby ever." Liam climbed under the navy blue covers with her. He then made a fist against her stomach and placed it gently against her skin. "Second try's the charm. Bump me one, littlest Dempsey!"

"Please don't. The last thing I need is to have her boxing in there."

"Boxin'? Oooh, my kid is goin' to come out already pumpin' iron and ready to take on Muhammad Ali!"

"How about instead of revving her up, we calm her down? All I want is the magical power to make babies nap on command, that's all."

"Calmin'?" Liam tapped his lips several time as he worked over the plan in his mind. "I can't give a kid a beer, let alone one that ain't here yet. And I sure as hell can't do the other stuff I do to calm down, like runnin'. Not yet, at least."

"You're right, we're not the best couple to ask about relaxing. I've never been good at relaxing in my life.”

"Maybe we could read to her or somethin'?"

Liam sifted through the books at his bedside.

"Now what do we have here? Kama sutra.... I don't _think_ so." Liam chuckled. He set the book aside and picked up another to sift through. "Well, there's comics, but she can't appreciate the pictures yet. But once she's out, I'll be introducin' her to Flash and Supes and Bats and Billy Batson and Peter Parker! The whole gang will be here!"

"You'll have to spend a lot of time explaining what's going on."

"Yeah, you got a point. I should probably wait a bit for those.”

He dug a bit deeper and pulled out one of the books he'd brought back from his mother's. It was a thin picture book with a little space boy on the cover. "Hey, I ain't ever read this one before. It's pretty neat.” He flipped through the pages. "It's got pictures, too. Books are better with pictures. That's why comics are so great. Sometimes I draw in my own if the book is stupid enough to not bring the art along."

"I know you have plenty of imagination. I've heard you describe plenty of things, usually about your plans with me.”

"Oh, that was just the beginnin'. I've planned heists and comics, and sometimes comics about heists."

He flipped open the book and started to read aloud. "Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book-- Oh hey, he's drawin' an elephant, I like the guy already."

She rested against him. Her daughter hadn't kicked for quite some time. She'd like to think that her child was listening rapt to her very first bedtime story.

November 1st, 1977 _A picture of the completed nursery._

She awoke to a strange and overpowering acrid scent. Pregnancy had made her sense of smell many times more potent than it was before. Just the smell of coffee and eggs in the morning would be enough to make her stomach turn; so, too, would new smells surprise her and make her feel that much more nauseous. She groaned as she sat up, a new ache in her back. Getting up had been so much easier when she didn't have a stomach bulge the size of a basketball, and a much larger cup size to boot.

"Only a few more months and my center of gravity will be back," Sophia muttered to herself. She patted her stomach. "Easy, girl. Your Russian step dance routine is the last thing I need right now while I'm trying to walk."

She moved the pillow back to its original spot, but the dark purple pillowcase only clashed with the orange floral wallpaper. For her, it was like staring at the sun, or at least the sun if it was painted by a hippie after taking LSD.

"Here’s hoping the eighties are better," she muttered again. “I don’t know how much more of these goddamn wallpaper acid trips I can take.”

As much as Saxton Hale had tried to eradicate the hippies and their subculture, their unmistakable influence still managed to show up everywhere, but it was especially predominant in her living room. Like a patchouli-scented nightmare, the wallpaper mocked her.

It took her some moments of waking to figure out what exactly the overpowering odor was. It only dawned on her as she started walking towards the extra room, where most of the noise was coming from as Tom Jones belted a song out from a tinny boombox. The volume was far lower than usual.

Every window in the apartment was opened as far as they could manage, even the ones that creaked and had to be forced open and held up with boards. The air outside was filled with snowflakes, the buildings littered with frost.

Sophia had traded sand and heat for Nor'easters. At least the snow melted away and didn't scrape against her heels.

She'd originally pegged the room as a home office, but life hadn't quite gone that way. Neither had birth control, for that matter. Nevertheless, she'd learned to take what life gave her, a lesson that started with a stolen briefcase and then a stolen kiss.

He had on a painter's mask and an old red, bloodstained and bullet hole-ridden t-shirt he could never bring himself to throw away, now it was flecked with white paint.

"Oh, mornin', Soph. Hope I didn't wake you, I needed Tom to get in the groove of paintin'."

"I needed to be up anyways," she said. "I thought we were going to pick these out together?"

"Was I supposed to wait even longer? Oh, crap. Yeah, I remember that now, I was. See, I was just goin' to get some milk for your coffee because we're out, and I passed by some stores. Saw somethin' in the window and sorta went overboard." He chuckled to himself.

"I was waitin' and waitin', but it's the weekend, and you sleep hardcore on the weekends now."

At least he'd remembered to put down tarps and pull out the furniture before he started painting. She hadn't even had to remind him.

"But when you see this stuff, you will totally get it. Cutest friggin' thing. In fact, I gotta take you in there just to show you--there---there were little booties! Such tiny friggin' feet!"

"Little booties?" she asked. " _Really_ little booties?"

"Like everyone compared to Mikhail friggin' big McHeavy, that's how small!" He set aside his paint roller, just to try and show the size with his hands spread apart. Paint dripped down onto his shoes, and puddled beside his feet across the tarps.

"That's pretty small. How long have you been up?"

"I dunno, lost track of time, I guess. Was goin' to surprise you, but it turned out into a bigger surprise than that. By the way, brought back donuts and stuff for you in the kitchen. Oh, and if you haven't been to the living room yet, um, you better watch your step."

She rubbed at her sleeves. Even a flannel pajama top wasn't enough in weather like this.

"I'm going to get some coffee. Do you want anything while I'm up?"

"Nah, I need a breather anyways--"

"Don't forget to take your shoes off before you come out."

The living room was utterly packed with new purchases. A large red crib and a matching red bookcase, plus a rocking chair and a new mobile with baseballs. A red blanket folded with little clouds-- no, make that baseballs --was folded up near the TV. There was a whole stack of children's books all over the couch, and stuffed animals of all kinds upon all the chairs.

"Jeez, Liam, did you buy the entire store out?"

"They had at least three things left when I went out of there."

"You really did go overboard."

"Yeah, what can I say? I was walkin' home, and there was a store, so I went in. Everythin' just leapt in the cart, I swear."

"Is there anything else I need to know about?"

"Maybe I got some onesies, but they said _Daddy's little slugger_ on them. There were some more like _Daddy's alarm clock_ and _Daddy's personal trainer_. How was I supposed to leave that behind? Oh yeah, and a rockin' chair, but those are like mandatory, right?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's a good thing we both get large paychecks."

"Oh, please. It wasn't even in the seven digits. Only six tops, I swear."

She made more than that in a day. Since Tom Jones wasn't around any longer, he hadn't invested in much lately, save for the occasional baseball cards. Considering that it wasn't her nemesis 70s décor, clashing colors or full of shirtless Tom Jones posters, she didn't exactly have many complaints.

"Oh, and you probably don't wanna go back there in the other room. Or the bathroom. Or by the door. At least not until I clear the packages out."

"What- do I even want to know?"

"Oh, just baby stuff. They had tiny, tiny cleats! And there were these little, little snowsuits, and shoes-- we can't have her bein' cold with the winter comin' up!"

He'd bought a rocking chair with little scenes of bunnies painted across the top, and a crib with some of the highest bars she'd ever seen. It was definitely the maximum security prison of cribs. Some of the clothes were large enough that they wouldn't fit her child until at least a year or two.

"I was a climber as a baby. Ma practically had to lock my crib down like Alcatraz. I figure if she's anythin' like me, we better be prepared. _Plus_ ," he said, drawing the word out like a salesman. "I got some of _these_."

He brandished the outlet covers with a big grin. "See? See? They're clear, but the baby can't go near them with forks, like I used to do for fun."

This apartment had been the first thing they'd gotten together, back when they'd made that first precarious precarious leap.

(Well, technically the first precarious leap had been into a bread monster.)

The decor wasn't her style, and the small rooms felt less cozy and more crowded with the promise of one more little person living right there with them.

There were memories in every corner. They'd fed pigeons on the balcony, and stayed up late after her shift, eating take out he'd gotten on his way back. For two years in this little apartment, it'd been just them. Now she could only see things to be fixed. Sharp edges to be covered, outlets to be filled, and locks to be installed.

But he'd already gone and made those first steps-- or in his case, first leaps and bounds.

"Outlets covers!" he said again, looking to her with slight concern at the edges of his bliss.

"Liam, I--- Thank you. You've done a wonderful job so far. I'm just still a little groggy from just waking up."

"I'd give you a mornin' kiss, but I'm kinda covered in paint." He looked down to his spattered shirt with a grimace.

She looked around, lifting up little booties and onesies. She could only imagine his glee, the mountain of purchases and him whistling all the way home. She unpacked a red one that had soft pattern of ladybugs. The next one was light red, almost pink, with the words _Daddy's little slugger_ on it, with a pattern of a rattle behind the words.

"This is all really lovely. You have pretty good taste in baby clothes."

"Yeah? I mean, of course I do. I got good taste in everythin', I mean, just look at the girl I married."

He reached in, only to draw back. "Damn this friggin' cockblockin' paint."

"It'll wash off soon enough. Then you can catch up."

"Yeah, you're right! I'm goin' to paint like the friggin' _wind_. Paint for the prize! All the kisses!" He punched the air and lifted up his paint roller like a battle cry. Tom Jones still crooned in the background.

"It'll be good to have it done before Thanksgiving," she said above the noise of the tape deck. “We were supposed to get this done months ago, but after my parents came, we never got around to it.”

"Thanksgivin'? Aren't we havin' it at ma's like usual? I don't think we could fit even half of my family in here, let alone yours."

"Oh, definitely. I couldn't even imagine hosting all of your family in this little apartment. Besides, it'll be better to have this be one thing I don't have to worry about."

He leaned on the door frame as a wave of dizziness hit her.

"I don't think I could even finish a turkey, let alone a pie in this state. I don't know how your mother did it."

"Me neither, but I ain't got that sort of stuff, so I don't know jack shit about this. Though, all that barfin' like you're hungover for months don't look fun. Anyways, you don't gotta worry about a thing. It's all goin' to be all right, and if it ain't, I will punch people until it is. In fact, speakin' of punchin', after this I'm goin' to install some more stuff. Got one of those baby monitors, and a baseball nightlight!"

"Impressive."

"Yeah, it was." But beyond his bragging, he smiled so bright at the simple compliment. Just a little encouragement or praise from her would put him in the best of moods, sometimes for even days.

"Do you think maybe you could redecorate the rest of the apartment? I've never been a fan of that wallpaper."

"Oh, hell yeah. This time we'll pick it out together.”

"And we could get a few more onesies. I want to see you running around a baby store, practicing your 'ultimate dad-fu.'"

Liam broke into an even bigger grin. "You say that when I can't kiss you? Oh, screw it, I'm kissin' you anyways, even if I get paint on you!"

He leaned in, careful to not let his sticky shirt touch hers. Close-mouthed and warm, she rested against him even as the scent of paint made her feel lightheaded. She pulled him closer for one last touch. One ruined shirt wouldn't matter in the long run.

Already, their little apartment was taking shape into something she finally loved. No longer would she hold back just because they might move on. They would leave their mark, and the memories would last on long after the paint had faded.

November 12th, 1976 _A picture of Sophia surrounded by mercenaries and presents, with **baby shower** written on the back in Sharpie._

3:30 PM

Colleen had insisted on setting up the shower, though Sophia considering simply skipping it. Her job had left her little chance to make friends, and events like this only reminded her that Colleen and the few mercenaries she'd kept in touch with was the closest thing she had.

There were some familiar faces, as well as some she hadn't seen in quite a while. Misha had to stoop to get into their door. His massive presence made everything seem smaller by comparison. He held a brown sack, hoisted over his shoulder, and thick enough that it almost got caught in the door.

"Practicing for your gig as Santa Claus?" Sophia asked.

"Hey, _I_ am doin' the Santa thing," Liam said.

"You'd have to gain a whole lot more beard and belly for that," Colleen said. She poked at his flat stomach. "I guess I'll have to make you a lot more cookies to get anywhere near Santa level trainin'."

"Skinny Santa, it's a thing now. Santa took up aerobics. Also, he got super charming and no beard."

"Sure you didn't write the n in the wrong place for what you're tryin' to be?" Colleen asked.

Spy peered from just outside a corner. "Trying?" Spy asked.

"I'm not the devil---just devilishly handsome," Liam said. He patted his hair back. His mother had forced him out of his hat and jeans for one day, so the infamous argyles were back.

He was cut off by the sound of an egg timer going off. Colleen rushed to the kitchen, leaving any more jokes about Liam's charm or lack thereof for later.

Sophia had positioned herself on the couch, mostly because at this many months along, she was banned from most things. Heavy lifting was especially high on the list of no-no's, along with alcohol and pretty much anything enjoyable. Liam sat beside her and eased his arm over the back of the couch, just like he had on many dates, faking a yawn to make a move.

"Look what Spy and I went and rounded up. Well, some of them anyways. Doc's off somewhere else, probably pissed off some high level black market person again, and Jane couldn't come. Dell's gonna be here any minute, though."

"Doktor has not responded to letters," Mikhail said. He nodded solemnly. She would've patted him on the shoulder if she could reach it without a ladder.

"I'm sure he's just on the run from the mafia again,” Sophia said. “Knowing him, I'd be more afraid for them. They're probably already carved up and in his basement to power his next freakish Frankenstein-esque experiment."

Mikhail nodded. "He is fearsome."

"Really, you should worry for them more than him. Because anyone chasing him might as well just be known as 'future victims.' He never was good at hiding the evidence, though I always had to get rid of the blood trails… Anyways, I'm sure he's fine."

"You are right," Mikhail said. He sifted through the large burlap sack and pulled out some small knit bonnets. "My mother sent these. She made them herself. There are many more."

They were so soft and tiny. Sophia cupped her hands around the little pastel wonders. "I'll have to send her my thanks," she said. “I hope she's enjoying Paris.”

"Bronislava and her send back many notes. Little cards with pictures on them. I keep them all and put them on the wall of my cabin in Siberia."

"Oh? You went back for a visit? I mean, of course you did. I'm sure when they're done traveling, there'll be a great bear punching party--" Her stomach rumbled so loud that several mercenaries turned her way. "Ugh, I'm famished---" Before she could say another word, Liam had a slice of cake held out. "Were you sneaking bites?"

"You better not have, the cake is for everyone!" came a yell from the kitchen.

"Naw, I'm just that fast and great," Liam said.

She took a small bite and groaned at the sheer explosion of flavor in her mouth. Creamy and rich, she couldn't help but take another bite and another. "Mm, chocolate with buttercream frosting. My favorite. In fact, it reminds me of my wedding cake. Liam almost fell into it." She balanced the plate of cake on her stomach. Sometimes, these things did come in handy. She rubbed at the cake crumbs on her mouth. "And here you said _I'd_ be the one fainting and falling for you."

"I'd been up for eighteen hours, babe, I couldn't help it. I couldn't sleep at all. I was just so excited."

"That seems to be a running theme, considering you did that when you first asked me out, and on our first date, and second, and third..."

"I mean, can you blame me?" He leaned in, until they were forehead to forehead. "You were worth not sleepin' for."

It wasn't until she heard a sigh of disgust. that she realized their public displays of affection had gone a little far. Liam chuckled and whispered to her, “They're jealous again.”

"Ahem, moving on-- everyone dig in. I was going to wait, but I needed some food, stat."

"Everyone can multitask, right?" Liam asked. There was just an air of a possible threat in his voice. Leave it to Liam to let his fatherly instincts lead to mass amounts of potential punching.

"Of course, boyo," Tavish said. He was out of his usual uniform, and instead wore a suit. She suspected that this wasn't the only party he was visiting tonight; he always did juggle as many jobs and events as he could.

"I'll kick this party off early since I'll be leavin' soon," Tavish said. He lifted up a piece of rough hewn metal with a string threaded through. Next to it was some kind of creature's dried head. "I cut this off myself, infused with iron. It'll keep the dread fae away from stealin' the wee one in the night and replacin' her with a changelin’.”

She'd known that one of them would be bringing heads; she just thought it would be Jane.

"Um..." She stared at it, blanking out with shock. She caught herself moments later. "I mean, thank you, Tavish. I will… be sure to take care of that. Really, thanks..." She cleared her throat. "Thanks again! Really, thanks."

"Aye, ye are questionin' now, but when ye are face to face with the UnSeelie queen, remember that I had your back." He took a seat at the sitting chair she usually used for reading. Really, their apartment wasn't equipped to host this many people. They couldn't even fit Liam's family on a good night, let alone all these wild hired killers she'd worked with for so long.

Liam leaned forward on the couch beside her, and clasped his hands together. He kept nervously squeezing his fingers together.

"Is there any of those which can keep wizards away? And ghosts? I hate ghosts, almost much much as I hate doctors, and I want to keep those bastards as far away from us as possible. Real good we ain't fought no ghost doctors yet, eh?"

"Did I ever tell ye about the dread ghost doctor that roams the lochs at night? Just lookin' for a patient to sink his bonesaw into? They say ye can hear him howl 'leave me birds alooooooone' in the night."

"Ghost Doctors? The only way this could be worse if they were also wizards! Damn, I knew they had to exist somewhere!" Liam shuddered.

"Liam, you have a ghost for a hat," Sophia pointed out.

"Scary Hat ain't like that. The only wicked he's got is wicked handsome.”

"So that's where doctor went to," Mikhail said.

"Wouldn't be surprised if that doctor of ours has taken up to hauntin' us, cursin' us and screamin' at the hills. I always thought he had it in him.”

"Probably," Sophia said. "I hope he hasn't picked up the dark arts. God help us if he studied with Merasmus and picked up black magic in addition to his Frankenstein science."

There was a sound at the door. Sophia nearly dropped her cake to the floor in surprise at the exact moment.

"I hope saying Merasmus' name doesn't summon him, like it works with Liam," Sophia said.

Liam got the door, and Dell almost fell through. He just barely caught him.

"Ph--yew, those are some stairs," Dell said.

"Ye must be gettin' old. Ye used to carry that big fun of yaes all over the battlefield.”

"I reckon so. We all are. Well, except for him." He nodded towards Liam.

"He doesn't age, he merely gets more annoying," Spy said. He lifted up the box and brought it back to the kitchen before Dell could even respond.

"By the way, Mick won't be showin' up. We couldn't get ahold of him. Probably off in the deserts huntin' again."

"That's too bad," Sophia said.

"Yeah, we totally wanted a jar of piss as a gift for the baby shower," Liam said.

"Liam," Sophia said sternly. "You don't know that it'd be that. It might be… a crocodile, or an empty jar, or maybe a gun."

Liam snickered. "Little baby guns. Mann Co. could find their newest line. Guns _for babies_."

She cracked up despite herself. "That's _awful_. I'm sure he would've given something better."

He never was much of a people person, so his absence wasn't surprising. Considering he'd been known to give things like jars of his own piss as Smissmiss cards, bullseye sweaters, and the occasional Smissmiss card attached to an arrow for the other team, it might've been better for him to skip this particular event.

Colleen peered out from the kitchen. "Anyone need more cake?"

Every single plate was raised for another helping.

4 PM

When the cake was mostly gone, another person stumbled through the door.

"Sorry I'm late, the train got delayed― Oh, I forgot to knock! Sorry about that."

Blond hair spilled out of her thick hat that seemed more suited to an ice age than an nor'easter. Her coat, too, was a dark brown puffy down that made her seem about twice the size that she actually was. Her name didn't quite come to mind. She only came to about Mikhail's chest as she stood on tip-toe to hug him.

"Mikhail! Don't tell me you've been holed away! You should go see New York, it's _amazing_."

"Miss Pauling, this is my sister, Yana."

"Dempsey. I married her―hell, I've been married to her for _years_! Two whole years, in fact!"

"Old habits die hard," Mikail said.

Liam crossed his arms. "Well, fix your habits--"

"No threatening to 'fix the face' of someone who could-- and has --broken you in half," Sophia said.

Liam shrugged. "What can I say? Old habits die hard."

"Ah, never mind that. We should have more cake and wine… actually wine would be an awful idea." She held out her hand to greet Yana. "This one doesn't want to kill me too, right?" Sophia asked, only half joking.

Yana looked shocked. "What? I would never--"

"Yeah, she don't get on with Zhanna, they had some kind of misunderstandin'," Liam cut in.

"Well, Zhanna always was… spirited," Yana said.

Mikhail nodded. "She would hold a grudge forever. Stalk her prey to the ends of the earth."

"Wonderful," Sophia said. "I didn't think before opening my mouth and got a bear-wrestling Russian amazon as my forever enemy."

Liam nodded. That was essentially a description of most days of his life, complete with the bear-wrestling.

Liam rested his hand over her forearm. "One of us should talk to Jane. He can probably get her to calm down. I mean, what did you say? Insult her braid or say she smelled like bear grease--"

"I inadvertently insulted the gift of ears Jane gave her, and implied she was a wild untrustworthy killer who might be a spy," Sophia said. "Um... I didn't think she spoke English."

Mikhail grimaced. "She will hate you until the end of time."

"Hey, it ain't all that," Liam said. “I'll have to ask Tavish next time he visits. He's still close with Jane, he'll get her to calm down and realize that Soph didn't mean to hurt anyone.”

Yana's face lit up. "Misha's other coworkers are here? Wonderful! I wanted to get to know them!"

"Except Tavish, you just missed him," Sophia said.

"What? He was the one I wanted to meet the most! Ah well, there's always next time." Yana started to go into the other room, but quickly doubled back. "Make sure I'm invited to the next party. Make sure there is another party."

"Um, all right," Sophia said.

"I wanted to try grillin' anyways," Liam said.

"Where are we going to grill? The balcony?"

"We'll have to rent a space. I could get a kiss the cook man-apron, and you could take that suggestion literally every single time you see me."

"This doesn't sound like the kind of grilling party that anyone else would be coming to. Or that would even have a grill."

Mikhail cleared his throat. She flushed, for a moment she'd forgotten he was there. Sometimes Liam would catch her attention and distract her from everything around. It wasn't that she meant to be rude, he was just, to quote his oft repeated phrase, _a force of nature_. Ignoring him was like ignoring a thunderstorm happening around her. And that was when he wasn't dialing it up to ensure that no one, ever tuned him out.

"I am going into the kitchen," he said. “I am too old for all this.”

"Man, all this time I was tryin' to find the weaknesses, and I could've taken down the other team by just kissin' and flirtin' with you."

"That would've been outside of the company guidelines," she said.

"What, not murderdeathy enough for them? Whatever, I can murderdeath with the best of them, but I'm a way better kisser."

"We're being rude hosts, and also whenever I leave the men too long, they tend to do things like get drunk and go streaking across town or plan jewel heists, so we better make sure they're being good."

"Okay, but I call kissin' dibs for later," Liam said petulantly.

"You always have kissing dibs. That's pretty much the definition of being married."

"Thank God for that. Bein' married is fuckin' awesome. I get dibs on everythin'! Even cake!"

"Speaking of which..." Her stomach growled. He helped her up, and they joined the others in the kitchen.

Once inside, he caught the laughter and merriment of his mother and Spy, as he fed her bites of cake. Spy was too caught up in her that he hadn't even noticed the dab of frosting that had fallen on his expensive suit.

"Jeez, I was better off in the kitchen," Liam said. His grimace matched the look on Mikhail's face.

Yana laughed. "Poor Misha, so many happy couples. You need someone of your own."

"I need you all to calm down and eat instead of this," Mikhail said.

Dell chuckled. "You think you'd get used to it after this many years of havin' to listen to him go on, then Jane went and got himself hitched as well."

"Even I have limits," Mikhail said. He rose. "I wish you well and a good baby. I must go back where there is no people."

Yana slipped her arm in his massive one. "Just for that, I'm dragging you to the most romantic of comedies."

"As I said, is time to go back to Siberia."

"There's always more time for Audrey Hepburn. There's going to be a marathon at the drive in, and we're going to watch them all."

Mikhail walked on, with only a nod for a goodbye. He never was much of a talker.

"Oops, we broke him," Colleen said.

"You already broke me," Liam said.

"It's a mother's job to embarrass her son. I'm tryin' to set a good example, so one day Sophie here can go an’ embarrass children of her own."

"I think we're doing great on that," Sophia said. “We just scared poor Mikhail away.”

"Oh, Misha's just scarred by having to watch Roman Holiday with me three times in a row," Yana said. She grabbed her hat off the table and pulled it down across her ears, so low that her bangs disappeared beneath the fur.

"Well, I'll best be goin' as well. My farm has some needs to be attended to," Dell said.

More goodbyes were said, from every side and every corner. Colleen set off to do the dishes while Spy dried. The day was already growing dark. Slightly over full, she just watched the sun recede and simply savored the moment. Sweet, like an aftertaste of chocolate cake, she held the seconds close in her memory.

5 PM

Sophia patted her stomach. "I ate way too much cake," she said.

"Unless you got a stomach ache, there's no such thing," Liam said. He leaned down to help her up from the couch, only to miss her mischievous grin as she pulled him down with her. "Oh, you are so goin' to get it.” He pulled her close, stealing a kiss.

He licked his lips. "You taste like chocolate. We should make regular big cakes a thing."

"Ughhh, I can't eat until I'm stuffed every day! Even the thought makes me feel a little sick..."

"That's what I do and I turned out alright. In fact, I turned out better than all right-- friggin' awesome, to be exact.”

"You have a freakish metabolism and immune system. I'm frankly a little jealous. If I did half the the things you regularly do, I would die several times over, probably on a daily basis."

Liam put his arm over the back of the couch. The faint blond hairs on his arm just tickled the back of her neck. "I'm jealous of how great I am, too, and I am me. Oh! I bet littlest Dempsey is goin' to get this. She'll never get sick and she'll help me with all the eatin' contests. I can't wait to meet her." She'd noticed that he'd started wrecking her calender with X's counting down to the middle of December, when the doctor guessed Sophia's due date would be.

"I hope parenthood is as glamorous as you think it will be, but I think there's going to be a lot of stinky times and sleepless nights," Sophia said. “At least that's what your mother keeps warning me.”

"Still, totally worth it," Liam said. "Besides, I had plenty of stinky times and sleepless nights just goin' to work. Man, some of those guys can snooore. And the shit you hear in the night--"

She couldn't help but laugh as he tried to make an imitation of the noise, which sounded like an elk call.

The floor was still strewn with wrapping paper, and occasional plates hidden in odd places, like that one fake potted plant Liam had won in a bet. She had a new fancy coffee machine that could probably kill a man thanks to Engineer. She was pretty sure that third setting was stun and the fourth was to bury all traces.

"You tired out, babe?” he asked. “We could head back for a nap since you got today off." He rubbed at his hair. "Feels friggin' weird to be sayin' that after all these years. Frickin' amazin', but I ain't used to havin' you to myself so much." He kissed her forehead, and she nuzzled a bit closer.

She rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm exhausted, but I'm way too old for all these naps."

"Hey, hey, you are _never_ too old for naps. Naps are amazin', like cookies, or sex, or cookies on top of sex, but they usually don't leave crumbs in the bed."

"Well, it's hard to argue when you put it like _that_. I should pick up this mess first," Sophia said, glancing around the room. At least there weren't any ruined windows or walls this time. No one had fought to the death, or even blown up the toilet. All in all, it was quite a success, even if half of the guest list hadn't shown up for reasons or other. Ones that she hoped weren't because they were running from the law again. Just the thought of waddling out and having to bury bodies in her current condition made her feel dizzy and exhausted all over again.

"We can get it later. The mess ain't goin' nowhere, unless aliens gatecrash and steal our garbage again."

"As far as I'm concerned, they can keep it.”

"As long as they don't steal all the booze again.”

"I can't have any for months anyways. Someone might as well enjoy it."

"When the kid gets here, we'll totally get shitfaced together, I promise. We'll make the kind of stuff Tavish used to get to look _tame_."

Big words for someone who could take about one beer tops before he started trying to fight people. But that was Liam, always big dreams and big plans, even if they didn't quite make sense like punching out the moon.

She laughed. "Not quite that much."

Curled up together, she could almost forget that the couch wasn't quite large enough, that he was already making a horizontal slide towards the floor.

Almost.

"This is cute, but one of us is going to fall over and break bones against that coffee table," she said.

"Well, littlest Dempsey, looks like you cut out the couch cuddlin' for a while. I hope you don't grow up to be too much of a cockblock," he said. He managed to actually help her up this time.

 

November 13th, 1977 _A photo taken at the doctor's, just before her first―and last―Lamaze class. Sophia looked unsmiling into the camera._

10 PM

"Hey babe, how did the lam-mazzy thing go? Sorry I had to bail, ma called me on--" He paused as he caught sight of her expression.

Sophia twisted the towel over and over, scrubbing the water residue. Technically, they'd eaten out and all that was left were a few glasses and utensils from before, but she'd taken on the task.

"I didn't mean to bail, but ma had this thing—"

She cut him off. "I left early," she said tersely.

"What, were you not feelin' good?"

Her doctor had recommended the class and even given her an exclusive invitation, which should've been her first warning. Stepping foot inside that room had been like a living flashback to her youth, and all the country club gatherings her mother had dragged her to.

She was almost thirty years old. She should've been beyond feeling like the lost child looking into a sea of people who only held disdain and judgment towards her.

And, as always, she didn't measure up in these situations. Her poise was off, her conversation skills lacking, and when she got nervous, she always blurted out random facts to fill the silence. She wasn't great at socializing with anyone whose occupation didn't at least have killing as a part-time job. She would plaster on a smile and try to think of something to say, but her mind always blanked, save for her best skin dissolving and body disposal tips.

How embarrassing to admit that she'd run away from a bunch of snotty Beacon hill socialites like she was a teenager.

"I think it's dry, babe," Liam said. He leaned in to watch her at the kitchen. "Need help? I bet I could dry the fuck out of that glass."

"What's wrong? You got a headache or somethin'?"

She set the glass aside, lest she break it.

"No, I've got _everything_ under control. My job, my life-- it's all just perfect!" Her voice tightened as she set the glass down on the rack. It tipped, smacking against the side. For a moment it looked about to topple, but Liam quickly righted it.

She started to dry a knife, and reached out to tentatively touch her arm.

"Uh, babe, how about you leave the knives to me? In fact, why don't you go take a break?"

"What-- you think I can't handle this? You think I don't have this under control? Well, I'm telling you, everything is _perfectly fine._ "

"Whoa, whoa-- I didn't say that at all!"

He stepped forward, and rested his hand on her shoulders. "What's wrong? Is this like super PMS: baby strikes back or somethin'? Do I need to go get the chocolate and wine… wait, crap, you can't have that-" Liam grimaced as he saw her expression. "Right, probably shouldn't have said that. I'm a friggin' dumbass, we’ve been through this."

She set the knife aside and twisted the damp cloth in her hands. She reached out for the glass, only to have it slip to the floor. Liam stepped back at the crash, the glass shattering.

"Oh shit―I'll get it, I forgot to take my shoes off." He grabbed the yellow broom from behind their fridge and began to sweep up the shards into a pile.

She stared down at the mess she'd made. Her vision blurred from tears―traitorous tears―that dripped down to her chin.

"Babe---! It's okay, it's okay! I'm getting' the pieces, it'll be okay. It was just a glass. It wasn't even a special one. We paid like a dollar for it at the store, and we can buy a whole bunch of them."

"It's not that... I just--I don't want to be one of _those_ women who lose themselves. Their lives end when their children come until they never read books or talk about anything but their kids. I--I don't want to be like that. I want to keep working and I just know I won't be able to do it all--"

"Soph, what the hell? We talked about this. You were goin' to get another job, though they kept you with different hours, so that changed. We were never like other pairs, though. We spent half our dates with dead bodies in the trunk. Raisin' a kid ain't goin' to be any different."

"I haven't even babysat in years, how could I be trusted to take care of a _child_?"

"Whoa, that's a load of bullshit. You pulled us out of so much stupid crap we got ourselves into. Some baby ain't got nothin' on what us nine used to put you through," Liam said.

"I don't do well with failure. I can't stand losing, I can't stand admitting to myself--- And there's so many things that could go wrong. I could have a miscarriage, she could die right after--- I'm going to have to go straight to Respawn and input my child's DNA to make sure we don't kill her. What does that say about me as a parent?"

He stepped towards her, but glass crunched under his feet.

"Whoops, I gotta take care of this." He swept up the rest of the pieces and disposed of them in an empty cereal box.

"Don't forget the edges," she said flatly.

He bent down with the broom and got over the entire checkered linoleum. Under the edge of counter and appliances. Once she wouldn't have trusted him with cleaning up a mess.

"We'll get a dozen more glasses, no worries."

"It's not that...I've never been good at making friends. I was a workaholic, and sometimes I can be very judgmental." She pushed dark hair behind her ear, her gaze turned to downwards. "I always worked so hard that I never had to worry about these things. Now I have time to myself, and all these worries are back. I can't even go into a damn _Lamaze class_ without being so awkward that it feels like I'm in high school again."

She laughed, mirthless, at the memories. She'd been the girl in the corner, her face hidden away by a book. She'd lost count of the times she'd been captivated by some boy in argyle, or girl in a plaid skirt, only to have them whisper behind her back. Every time she'd try and talk to someone, she'd get nervous and just start repeating facts, or realize she'd said something awkward and clam up, or completely retreat with an awful excuse.

"Did somebody mess with you? Because I'll introduce them to my fist," Liam balled his fist, lifted it up. He was always just a step away from getting into a fight.

"No, this is a battle I should've fought myself. But I didn't. I ran."

She pushed her glasses up and wiped at them. "I feel like a damned fifteen year old, just as gangly and helpless, and I never wanted to feel like that again."

With that clique closing in, and conversations that she could never quite break through, she'd been that girl again. Over fifteen years had passed, and she was still just as awkward.

He embraced her from the back, his face buried to her neck. She tensed for a moment, then slowly began to relax into his arms.

"I've spent so much time running away from this, and here it is all again. I probably couldn't even schedule a play date for my daughter. How pathetic is _that?_ It's not just that… I'm not. I'm good at working, at burying people in the ground, but I'm not good with people who are actually alive. I used to spend time at the mirror rehearsing just to send you all contracts. Even something as simple as 'I've got a contract' took work."

"It says that you're prepared and plan ahead, and that's super sexy. You ain't alone in this, you know. You got me, and I'm sure ma will help us out when we ain't got a clue."

"We can't just keep running to her every time. She has her own life."

"She's yours now too, you know. You're a Dempsey, and a part of this family."

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because I know you'll fix everythin' right up. You always did. No matter if it was Merasmus screwin' with us again, or aliens attacking, or plans fallin' through on your vacation--you always got the job done. Look, sometimes you just gotta take the leap when it comes. When I thought I was goin' to kick it for real, I knew I had to find a way to get to you. And this, it ain't too different. Just just gotta take my hand and jump."

"We don't have to go back, if the class ain't your thing. And you ain't givin' up anythin', you ain't goin' to be like one of those stay at home girls. The Admin would kill me if I ever took you away too much."

She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. "You're already very high on her to kill list. She's just wary that I might betray her if she pushes me too much, and training a new recruit would be too much trouble."

"See, you're savin' my ass just by lovin' me."

She pushed her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. her mascara had run, and she hadn't even bothered to wear gloves. Her polish had chipped and worn. He rested his hand against her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

"There's my gorgeous girl," Liam said. His voice was so low, barely above a whisper.

She put her hand over his. Amid all these painful memories that the class had dredged up, she remembered him babbling into her answering machine. Even when she felt drained, she'd could always count to have a very full answering machine.

"Maybe I'm just tired. I'm being unreasonable, I'm all over the place these days-"

"Hey, you're just new to this parent thing, and about to kill half of your Lamaze class. But you know what? You got this. No, no _we_ got this. Maybe sometimes we're goin' to feel like we're slippin' sideways, but one of us just gotta right it. It's probably goin' to be you."

He believed enough for the both of them. She held to the counter, as a sudden trip of vertigo left her world feeling sideways.

"Why don't you go on ahead and rest a bit? I'll finish up. You'll feel better with some rest."

"I'll stop being a ridiculous crybaby now," she said.

"The only ridiculous you are is ridiculously awesome and ridiculously good lookin'," he said.

She didn't go to bed. She sat back on the couch and didn't bother turning the television on.

10:15 PM

Liam held out the phone.

"Liam," she hissed. "We've been through this― it's the middle of the night. We can't just keep calling her every time something goes wrong--"

"I hate seein' you like this," Liam said. "And for once, I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this, and not even _you_ know what to do."

Colleen's voice was loud enough that she could hear her even at this distance. So that was where Liam got it from.

"You think this is the first time Liam kept me up? Nobody could delay bedtime like him. He was a damn pro at beggin' for just one more story, one glass of water and so on."

"I'm sorry he bothered you so late," Sophia said softly.

"He was worried about you," she said.

Sophia sighed and took the phone.

"I've just been strangely emotional lately. A cup shattered and I just broke down. I keep worrying about so much. I was never like this before."

All the books had warned her that she'd be emotional, that strange moods would come in the oddest of times. But Sophia hadn't quite thought it would happen to _her_. She was capable, she had handled keeping nine of the rowdiest men around in line, to say nothing of occasional wizard fights, alien invasions, and dinner with her parents. But just sitting there had been like watching the walls close in on her.

Pregnancy had been as sudden as stumbling in to find the Administrator's chair empty, to finding that the entire company had been lost. Though, at times, it was just as confusing. Even books couldn't give her a map for every symptom.

"Sophie, I've popped out eight of them. I think I know a few things about bein' knocked up. Frankly, I'm surprised it took you this long. You must have one hell of a sweet baby. When I was pregnant with Liam, I was about ready to fight anyone. My boys had to hold me back to keep me from punchin' the ref down at Fenway. Fuckin' awful call. From practically the first month I just wanted to smack anyone down, I was so angry all the time."

"Not surprisin'. I was probably givin' that ref the finger before I was born," Liam said.

"Knowin' you, you probably were," Colleen said.

"I tried a Lamaze class. It...didn't go well," Sophia said. She shifted the phone.

"But she's been weird for a while. Like she has me move the furniture every day. Is that a preggers thing? Technically she's been lookin' at the wallpaper like she was goin' to bury it in a shallow grave for a while, but--"

"That's nestin', sweetie. I did a ton of that with every boy I had. It's completely normal."

"I just figured the kid was goin' to be one of those house decorators. Anyways, Sophie says the lame-aze class was full of rich fucks. No wonder she bailed."

"Oh, did you go up to Beacon Hill? Snottiest people around. No wonder. You should've come down here and listened to the knitting league. None of us knit, we just drink wine and talk about our kids. It sounded better than the Jack Daniels league, though."

"Maybe after she's born," Sophia said.

"Oh, we all think it's just an exaggeration, then you're halfway to the dugout with your purse held up like you're goin' ref huntin'. It happens to the best of us. No need to worry."

"Ma, you try to fight the refs even when you ain't knocked up," Liam said.

"Someone's gotta knock some sense into them."

Over the phone, she could hear a door open. _Bon noir_ , murmured so low, she almost didn't hear it.

"How about we talk about this tomorrow? We can have some more tea."

"That―" It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she caught herself. "-would be nice. Thank you."

"Don't be silly, and think you have to take this alone. You're my daughter now, after all. Now, no more stories for tonight, go get some sleep."

"Goodnight," she said. She put the phone back in the cradle and turned to him.

"If you're angry, okay. I guess I deserve it. But could you not kick me out of bed? It's so cold and cramped on the couch. I just didn't want to see you sad anymore." Liam’s voice had gone quiet, even pleading.

She sighed. "I'm not too angry at you. I guess I needed help that time, even if I wasn't going to admit it to myself."

"That's what bein' part of a family is."

"See, I'm not that great at being a part of a family, either. I never send cards, I don't call back, and I never ever ask for help."

"It's never too late to start, you know?"

"You'll have to give me lots of lessons," Sophia said.

"No worries, I got you covered. Literally in a minute."

It was a stupid joke, but she still smiled for the first time in hours.

10:20 PM

She got dressed into pajamas. She'd had to stick to long nightgowns; everything else didn't fit her anymore. This one was particularly frumpy, with a neck full of lace and long sleeves edged with rough lace, like some Victorian spinster's dress.

He patted the bed next to him.

"If you're hoping to get lucky, you'll be disappointed," Sophia said. “I'm utterly exhausted.”

"I'm hopin' to get warm, it's winter in Boston―my balls are about to freeze off!"

She chuckled as she ducked under the covers. He pulled her into his arms and nuzzled against her. He suddenly let out a yelp as her feet grazed his legs.

"Your feet are freezin! Lemme get you warm."

He pulled her close into a spooning position. He'd let out little starts whenever her feet grazed his legs. Still, he didn't pull away.

"Jeez, are your toes _frostbitten?_ If you'd been out on the floor a few seconds more, you would've been turnin' blue."

For a few moments they just curled up, and found comfort in this warmth, this shield against the outside cold. She broke the silence. Usually it was him chatting away, talking until they fell asleep.

"The truth is, I was always that person making excuses not to talk to people. I was always the person who raised the hand in class, and sometimes I'd get on a tangent and people would mock that. I spent a lot of time alone. So I crushed them in the rankings and later on blackmailed them and blackballed them from ever getting jobs in their fields. The ones that I left alive, anyway."

"Jeez, that's hardcore," Liam said. “I just shoved people in lockers and punched 'em out. Here, you were fuckin' _ruinin'_ them.”

She chuckled. "My trainers in Mann Co. always said I had a knack for this kind of thing. At least until I had to kill them."

"Brutal," Liam said with pride.

"You know, I still have those answering machine tapes you left for me. It was nice. You never seemed to judge me at all, and you always wanted to talk to me. Even when I was awkward and blurting out random facts. Or running away."

"Of course you couldn't. You could just ramble about anythin' for a whole date and it'd be great. In fact, wasn't that pretty much our second date? Besides, I got plenty more where that came from."

"Which was the second date? I thought it was the one that aliens cockblocked?"

"No, I'm talking about the cafe time that got cut short after I talked about gun terminology for thirty minutes."

"Wait, are we not countin' the bread monster thing? We almost died together like fifty times, that's gotta count for somethin'."

"We weren't even together then," she said.

"You gotta admit we had somethin' goin' on. We were dancin' past that bread thing."

"That was flirting, not dating."

"Then it's―pre-dating? Flirtating?"

"It means we'll never look the same way at the free bread when we go to dinner ever again."

He chuckled. "Damn straight we didn't. I had nightmares about bagels chasin' me for _weeks_."

"I'm not surprised. I never thought I'd have to write mutant bread with tentacles as something we'd ever have to face."

"We faced it together. And, look, you don't gotta ever take this alone, you know? Maybe teenage you had to be sad in the corner, and it's too bad I couldn't be there to tell her she was beautiful and great and make her smile. But I'm here now. And so is all my family. Us Dempseys don't let each other down."

"You would've shoved me in a locker. I was awful."

"Naww, not happenin'," Liam said.

"You've never seen my yearbook photos? There's this period where I had these awful braces and really thick glasses before I got my new prescription. You would've walked on by."

"I bet you pulled it off."

"No, I really did not." She shifted in his embrace. "Thank you.... ah, this is hard to say. Thank you for not judging me when I'm at my worst. For always believing in me, and supporting me and... just thank you."

"That's what you do when you love somebody. Well, at least that's what you do when you're awesome like me and just effortlessly takin' the husband of the century award. They got an award for that, right? Because they should."

"I'm sure I can make a cup or something."

"Good. Make sure you get yourself some awesome wife of the century award, too."

"We can put them side by side, right beside your 'biggest ego in existence' award."

"Just where they belong," Liam said.

November 15th, 1977 _A picture of the second shopping trip. Liam posed in front of a very full shopping cart, with his arm about Sophia and a big grin across his face_.

The second shopping trip had been delayed so long that if they waited any longer, it'd be done post-natal. He helped her out of the car, and offered his arm for her to hold. Liam had been hovering for days, just as he did whenever she got a little too upset. A fight or even mild disagreement, and he'd amp up his usual spoiling to her to overdrive.

But he couldn't help but let go the minute they got into _Mann's Babymann Store_ , and rush towards the displays.

"Look--- look at this!"

Liam lifted up the canopy over the car seat and peeked in.

"It's like a Ziploc bag tent, but for babies? A pillow fort just for them? Man, I'm jealous of babies, they get to go in their PJs all the time."

Liam passed by the pastel pink and baby blue, and settled on red. He placed it in the cart, along with every other thing which had caught his fancy.

"And they get the shake stuff and make noise, and sleep all day. Yeah, bein' a kid is the life. I sure didn't appreciate it when I was a baby. Or at least I don't think I did. I don't exactly remember."

"At least you didn't say they were lucky because they wear diapers," she said.

"Well, plenty of guys wear diapers when the innings go long. It's a thing," Liam said. As he saw her horrified grimace, he put his hands in front of his chest. "No, no, _I_ ain't done it, but it happens."

"Ew... moving on." Sophia took several steps forward, her fingertips just shy of some new bottles.

"Oh, those look great! I didn't get _nearly_ enough of those when I last went out."

She chuckled. "You've got baby fever."

"Naw, I ain't got---"

She turned towards him, and touched her hands to his cheeks. "Admit it. This is absolutely baby fever. You have a raging case of _the dads_."

It was harder to embrace now, harder to walk and keep her balance. Still, he put his arms about her and hugged her as close as he could.

"Maybe, baby," Liam said. He spun them around, a half dance in the childcare aisle. All told, she'd danced with him in stranger places.

"If you dip me, we're both falling," she said.

"I wouldn't mind fallin' with you, but psych, I already fell for you!"

"We're not screwing on the floor of a baby supplies store. I can't do it with the _pastel teddy bears_ watching."

"That's your only problem? Really?"

"That's _one_ problem."

"Does this mean public sex is on the table? Park tables, to be exact?"

"Not in a baby supplies store. With how loud you are, you probably already shocked some of the soccer moms so much they went into labor."

"I won't even charge them for helpin' out," Liam said. He went through the shelves, past pacifiers and more toys. The organization in this store was beyond reason, but there was little else to expect from _Mann's Babymann Store_. Organization was never Saxton Hale's strong suit. Even with Bidwell to try and make order of the chaos, chaos often reigned.

He set a rattle up on her stomach. "Okay, you like that? One kick for yes, two for no." He put his ear to her stomach. "Awww, I got a kick! She likes it!"

"By those standards, she likes everything, or hates everything too," Sophia said.

"Oh, so you're goin' to be a happy baby? I like you already." Another kick seemed to confirm his guess. Either that or she would simply come out kicking and screaming, just as Liam had.

At the end of the aisle were many books with mice and blocks on the covers, all written by _Richard Scarry_.

"I better get these for next Halloween, I can give 'em out, and give 'em somethin' real _Scary_. Eh? Eh?"

Their daughter hadn't even been born yet, and he already had the dad jokes down to perfection.

"Are you done buying out the entire store or are you going to start commissioning custom inscribed baby designs now?" Sophia asked.

Liam's face lit up. "I never thought of that! I gotta ask Spy where I can get some of that. I'm sure he knows that, he speaks fluent rich fuck."

They'd need a bigger place if they were going to be able to store even half of the stuff Liam had plans to get.

November 24th, 1977 _The first full Dempsey family picture that included her._

Most of her holidays had been spent away from family. She'd worked through her holidays at college, and then continued the trend by working three-hundred and sixty-four days a year at her job. Her family got used to their calls not being returned, and eventually stopped bothering to send cards.

She'd forgotten what it was like not to work through the holidays, this respite, this closeness. She was still learning.

The house was filled many different wonderful scents. From the herbs over the cooking turkey, the spice in the pumpkin pie, and the new scent of buttery rolls just being slid into oven, each was enough to make her mouth water. Put together, it was somewhat dizzying. Pregnancy only made the aromas that much more potent and overwhelming. A football game blared in the living room, with most of his brothers, uncles, and cousins, along with a few aunts avidly watching the score.

Liam paid little mind; baseball was the only sport which could bring out his enthusiasm.

The apron was frayed and stained with many years of use, but it did its job, keeping her blue evening gown free from oily residue. Colleen lifted a spoon to her mouth to taste a sauce that smelled strongly of garlic and oregano.

"We're a bit late, but do you need any help?" Sophia asked.

Colleen waved her away. Her hand still held the wooden spoon she'd used to stir the mashed potatoes. Little flecks of white fell onto the countertop. Like Liam, she talked with her hands.

"Don't be silly, I've got this. Just go sit down. It's always hell to be on your feet in the third trimester."

Sophia nodded and took a seat at the small table in the kitchen. Her sense of gravity had felt quite off for some time, often resulting in something like vertigo. Morning sickness was supposed to end after the first trimester, but for her, it hadn't. It was only intensified by how active her daughter tended to be, and her spurts of kicking like she was already practicing to run.

"Liam, get out of the cookies, you'll ruin your supper."

Liam wiped the cookie dust from his mouth. "Trust me, ma, I always got room for more."

"And I know that if I don't keep my eye on you, you'll steal that whole batch. Just like you did in nineteen sixty-eight, and a hell of a lot years before that, but in sixty-eight, you were brutal."

"Aww, come on, ma. I hadn't had your cookin' in _ages_. I meant to only grab one, but it was so good, I just went overboard and ate the whole thing. I'd had so many cold beans and take out that year. My brothers had your cookin' all the time, they could spare a few cookies. Besides, I paid for more cookie the next day."

"Then you went and ate those ones too."

She hadn't had the luxury of being late to awkward family gatherings because she'd accidentally slept in in years.

"You can sneak all the cookies you want," he said.

At first she thought he was referring to her pregnancy and how it had affected her appetite, but she realized exactly what he meant when he slipped a napkin wrapped around some stolen food onto her stomach.

"Just one of the many services I offer," she said dryly.

"Hey, hey, this way---"

He grabbed her hand and led her down the long hall. There were so many posters that she could only see slivers of the wall through the spaces. A few pin ups, baseball stars she didn't recognize, though a few more years with Liam and she'd probably know them all by name.

"And there's Tom Jones. I should pour one out for him, considering he made me rich again."

Liam saluted the poster with just a hint of sadness for his favorite singer, his life taken too soon.

He pulled out a whole wrapped batch of cookies from his pocket and grinned wide. "You have as many brothers as I do, and you learn to sneak some food."

He shoved a whole cookie in his mouth, but had at least the decency to finish chewing before he opened his mouth again. "Want one?"

"No, I'll pass."

Liam laughed to himself and shook his head. There was something nostalgic in his gaze, even more than his usual fare.

"Let me guess, high-fiving a boy from the past?"

"Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bring a girl back to my room? Any, any at all? Especially a girl as amazin' as you are."

He leaned his back against the bed, with his head resting against her legs.

"I can guess," she said.

She was still having issues with relaxing, given that after so many years, her mind would attempt to remind her of things that she no longer had to do. And when there was nothing to do, there was silence, and mandated allotted amount of small talk, and witty quips which she would only think of too late.

Uncomfortable silence, or any kind of silence was never something she had to worry about with Liam around. He flipped through the pages of his comic, something about Tom Jones saving Batman from aliens. She'd never been a comic reader, she never had the time.

"That reminds me, I never showed you my baseball cards--"

A knock at the door interrupted him. "Dinner is ready," Colleen said through the door. “If you're naked, you better put some clothes on before the food gets cold. We don't have leftovers in this household, so if you both don't hurry, you'll miss out.”

"We're both quite clothed, I assure you," Sophia said dryly.

"Good, that means there might be some left by the time you get out here, might is the keyword, so don't dawdle. I'll try and hold my boys back, but I can't keep them from dinner long." There was the sound of several footsteps, then her yelling above a clatter and crashing in the kitchen."Michael, don't you dare try balancing that on your head again--"

"What, no jokes? You must be getting rusty."

"Nah, I just like you clothed. Don't get me wrong, I _love_ you without 'em, but it's pretty nice with them on, too."

He pushed himself up, and helped her up, even though they both knew she could do it herself. He was always pulling out chairs, opening doors, and then smirking to himself about how he too could be a gentleman if he wanted. He didn't let go of her hand as they walked back towards the kitchen, past photos of an earlier era and family members she had never met.

The wallpaper had faded to yellow with water stains. Somehow, they hadn't gotten fixed yet in all these years.

"Ta-da! All here," Liam said. He managed to gesture to her without letting go of her hand.

"You could say, that's _a Pauling_ ," Michael said. He snickered, and nudged Jonathan beside him.

"For heaven's sake, am I goin' to have to put a pun jar like the swear jar I had to put in?" Colleen asked.

"Probably," Michael responded. "I just will keep pun-ishin' you all."

Several people around the table groaned.

"And I'll be pun-chin' you if you don't fill your piehole with cake," Jonathan said.

Michael smirked. "Bring it. With those scrawny hands, you won't go far."

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. He was a full foot shorter than his brother, and without the stockiness which had won Michael plenty of fights simply by outlasting whoever he was fighting. "You want to have a go at me? A barrel-chested brute like you couldn't even make a dent."

"You know the rules," Colleen said. “No fightin' at the table. And nobody's goin' to save you anythin', so you'll end up hungry and without pie.”

"He ain't worth it anyways," Michael muttered.

The table was heaped high with what looked like enough food to feed an entire neighborhood. The turkey was browned and covered with a honey-spice glaze, surrounded with vegetable dishes, salads, and more food than she could even process all at once.

And looking from Liam's huge, scarred brothers, wild enough to rival the mercenaries, she wasn't sure it would be enough.

Just at the edges, she could see a lace tablecloth, and the blue and white of porcelain plates.

"Be careful with that," Colleen said. “I brought out the good plates since this is Sophie's first Dempsey family Thanksgiving.”

"Well damn," Michael said. “Here I was goin' to play fuckin' Frisbee with the plates, then take the rest out and use 'em as shootin' practice in the livin' room, but you had to go and ruin all my dreams.”

"Michael, you're on thin ice here."

He chuckled. "Can't help it, I'm the biggest smart-ass in this family."

"Excuse you, I'm the one who set a friggin' world record for getting' his mouth washed out with soap," Liam cut in.

"Just because you got a lot to say don't mean you got anythin' _good_ to say," Michael said.

Liam's fist curled. Sophia patted his leg, and mouthed the word _food_. His hand unclenched, and she intertwined her fingers with his. He instantly forgot his anger, far too distracted by Sophia to ever turn away, even if all his brothers started joining in on the mockery. Fights with the mercenaries had gone done 50% the minute they started dating.

"Okay, if you're done snarlin' around, it's time to get thankful, so we can get some food," Colleen said.

"Maaa, can't we skip the whole thankin' thing?" Jonathan asked. “Liam's goin' to keep us until friggin' Smissmass braggin' about how awesome his life is.”

"Damn straight I will. In fact, I got tons more to say---"

"Eh, we can multi-task," Colleen said. “Just no climbin' on the table like you tried to do the year you married her.”

"I'll save that for when the baby's here," Liam said.

"You know the rules, Liam. No feet on the table, even if you did marry the girl of your dreams."

Her height of the table and her stomach made it hard to sit properly. Just as she was about to get up, Liam slipped behind her and leaned in to drape his arms about her shoulders. "I got this," he whispered. He winked and kept on talking. His brothers, so worn down with his droning on didn't even catch him sneaking food, moving quick enough to grab the most choice pieces, which all ended up on her plate.

Liam's gift of gab could be quite a weapon when he wanted it to be. It'd gotten them out of more than one sticky situation.

"I always get my stuff first and I always take extra," Liam said smugly.

"Well, good, because I sure am going to eat extra. Mmmmm, this is delicious--"

A camera flash made her almost drop the piece of turkey right off her plate.

"You're pretty late. Good thing I saved you some food."

"You are a treasure, as always," he said. There was a low murmur among her boys. At most, they tolerated him.

"Good you realized," Colleen said. “So, you got another piece for that scrapbook?”

"Savor the moment, ma chére," Spy replied. “It may never come again.” He took two more pictures. She couldn't tell if it was merely a failsafe, or if he wanted to keep savoring those moments as well.

"Thanks for that, Mr. Optimistic. You always bring rainbows around, generally to make my sons cry. Do you want pie?"

Spy snapped one last picture, and let the camera hang about his neck.

"I always want pie," he said.

December 14th, 1977. _Two Polaroids: a creased photo of Liam making a phone sign with his hand, and another of Liam making a heart sign with his fingers._

"Revision LLC, this is Ms. Dempsey speaking, how may I help you?"

"New shell, huh?" Liam asked.

"Always some new front," she said. “It's hard to keep track of which ones are going to be the the fake company today. Liam, this is the--" She checked her notes. "--thirty-third time you've called today. Are you trying to set a record? It's pretty hard to beat the amounts of messages you used to leave when we were working together."

"You know me, always breakin' records. Anyways, everythin' okay? You hungry? I could go grab somethin'. If they want you to lift stuff, just ask me. Promise I won't look, even if the papers fall down at my feet."

"Liam," she said, her voice growing slightly stern, "Just as I told you the last thirty-three times, I'm _fine_."

"When's the due date again? I feel like I've been waitin' forever."

"You sound like a kid counting down the days until Smissmiss"

"Well, it kind of _is_ a gift, and it's pretty close to Smissmiss, too. And yeah, that sounds sappy enough I want to punch myself, but it's true."

"Catch!"

A paper airplane hit against her window. She opened up past the chill and pulled in out of the snow on the windowsill. Folded inside was a picture of Liam making a _call me_ sign with his hand. It'd been the last thing he'd said to her the first time they'd met, and through the years, it'd taken on some special meaning between them. Even for a shared laugh at his _extreme asshole years_.

"Wait, are you camped out on the top of a building?" Sophia asked, her voice growing panicked.

"What?” Liam asked back. “I'm hangin' out with Mick on a job." The phone started to dissolve into momentary static as she heard Mick mutter something she couldn't quite catch.

"Liam, no!"

"He's just spyin'. Kinda funny, though, sittin' up here and watchin'."

"Wait, is he spying on _us_?"

"Nah, we're pointed the other way, actually."

She pushed herself up from the desk and squinted out into the sunlight.

"Aren't you cold?"

"A little, but it ain't so bad. Besides, I got this stack of papers, and Mick is lettin' me use his portable phone for a bit! Did you get it?"

"Yes, I've got it right now. You've got some aim to make it that far."

"Hell right I do, I had lots of practice in school. Bonafide class clown _and_ class charmer here."

"I can imagine."

Papers scattered across the floor. She bent to pluck them up. Static came over the phone. The room was bare with open space all around. At least in New Mexico, they'd had potted plants; even if those plants had been bugged, it at least put some sort of coziness to the rooms. Here it was just spare, severe colors, and an open metal shelving unit at the side.

"I can't hear you--"

"That better?" His voice was much more clear now.

"Yes. Listen, everything's fine, but I have a lot of work to do, so no interrupting me, okay?"

"Until dinner? That's _hours_ away."

"I think you'll manage. If anything happens I'll call you, but right now I need to focus on this… exciting paperwork."

"You want me to call some more, keep you company--"

"If I want to actually still be with this company, I need you not to keep me quite so much company."

"Another job could be like an adventure. We could go be treasure hunters in the sea!"

"I'm hanging up now, Liam. I'll see you at dinner time."

"All right, all right, goodbye, but only for now," Liam said. “I'm totally eatin' with you later.”

She cut off before he got into another turn of _you hang up first, no you hang up first_ and tried to get that many more moments to talk to her.

A few minutes later, another folded airplane soared in through her window. The Polaroid was slightly blurry, but it showed Liam making a heart with his hands. His face was slightly cropped off, lost to the black line which must've been someone else's finger over the lens. (Probably Mick's, all things considered.) She slipped it into her desk with all the other little things he'd sneaked to her through the years.

December 17th, 1977 _The first photo that contained all three of them. Written on the back was “The happiest moment of my life was probably when my daughter was born.” scrawled in purple ballpoint pen._

3 AM

She'd been trying to count the rising arcs of pain for the past few hours while Liam paced the room. The pains had started hours ago, though how many hours ago she'd forgotten. Sometime around midway, she'd mistaken the overwhelming pain for a bad stomach cramp. By 3 AM, she’d been counting between what she now realized were contractions. It wasn’t exactly an ideal time for her to be enduring this much pain and agony, of course, but that was the least of her problems. Their child was coming, and it probably wouldn’t be long now.

"How many?" Liam asked when he’d stopped in his pacing to face her. His whole body had tensed up, he was so worried.

"I don’t know, I just lost count again," she answered him tautly. She curled into a ball on the bed and tried to catch her breath again. Ooh, she could see why they called it labor now, and it certainly wasn’t for how enjoyable it was.

"Jeez, cripes! Can't we just get Dell to, like, build a teleporter in there?"

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Either way, she didn't have the strength to deal with it. "We don’t have time for this shit, Liam. We should get to the hospital.”

“Can you get up?”

“I’ll certainly try.”

She took a deep breath and tried to stand. The excruciating pain that shot through her made her feel unsteady on her feet, and it wasn’t long before her knees gave out from under her. He managed to catch her before she could collapse onto the floor, and then he helped her back into bed. She was counting the seconds and and moments between contractions, just as the book had said to do, but his hyperventilating kept making her lose count.

"Fuckin’ hell… isn’t there an easier way to do this? Okay, I got this, I got this, I– shit, shit, shit, holy shit! _What do I do?_ "

"Call your mother!"

"Right! Calling ma now!"

He ran out almost immediately to get the phone. She could hear his panicked voice while she reached to pull the overnight bag she'd packed in advance a little closer. Between Liam and his mother, there was no such thing as secrecy, not when she could overhear them two rooms away.

"Ma, wake up! It's happening now! What do I do? Where are you? The kid’s comin' right now! You gotta come! You gotta-- Ma… don’t let… two… I. Me."

She heard a sharp thud and the sound of the phone dropping. She didn't have to look around the wall to know that he'd fainted.

Sophia tried to rise again, but the fear of falling over again made her feel uneasy. At this rate, she'd have to call a taxi.

“Sophia?” she suddenly heard someone call out to her.

The kitchen door opened, and Spy came in with Liam's unconscious body sprawled behind him.

“Spy?” Sophia asked in a bit of confusion. “What are you doing here?”

"I was in the area," he answered. "She's going to meet us at the hospital; it's closer to her."

"And just how much time do you spend spying on us?"

Spy smiled just a little. "A magician never reveals his secrets."

"And Liam?"

"Fainted in the kitchen."

“Of course he did.”

It wasn't quite as rough as that first time he'd fainted at the sight of one of her more gruesome jobs, and she'd had to drag his body back across the cave and desert and haul him right over her scooter along with her latest burials.

"Leave him to his mother," Spy said as if he knew what Sophia was thinking. “He'll probably run the whole way out of shame when he wakes up.”

With little time for humor, she took his arm and allowed herself to be helped to the waiting car. She'd seen notes about his red Ferrari, but she never had the chance to ride inside. Spy wasn't known for his kind, giving personality, after all.

"I might bleed on the seat," she said.

"You wouldn't be the first and probably won't be the last," Spy quipped.

He said nothing more after that. Just as she could count on Liam to always fill a silence, she could count on Spy to leave her to her thoughts. Something she was thankful for, given that sharp sudden spikes of each contraction left her in less than a talkative mood.

3:25 AM

It wasn't long before Spy and Sophia had finally made it to the emergency room. It was absolutely packed, much to their chagrin. Several nurses and doctors were tending to patients that had either been mauled during Smissmiss shopping or injured themselves just getting ready. So when Colleen had finally come up to them, Sophia took in the one moment of relief she had before another contraction hit her.

“There you are, I was startin’ to wonder where you were,” Colleen said. “Don’t tell me you left Liam at home. Heaven knows what sort of brain damage he might have if he just lays there.”

“Well-” Sophia was about to speak up before another contraction shot through her and prompted a yelp.

“Don’t stress, ma chére,” Spy assured Colleen. “I’ll have him here before anyone knows what happened.”

“You better be good to that poor boy.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” With that, he left.

Colleen turned her attention towards Sophia and asked, “So, how ya holdin’ up?”

“Holy shit... I never want to go through this again.”

“I know the feelin’, sweetie. I thought Brian was goin’ to be my only baby when I first had him, but then one thing led to another and I found myself pregnant again.”

“No, really. I never want to do this again. I swear, I’m going to have to get my tubes tied after this.”

4 AM

She'd miscounted, despite attempting to remind herself. She'd been in this hospital bed for some time, though the signing in process had gone through with such ease that she was fairly sure either bribery, blackmail or outright threats had been given, either by Spy, Colleen, or both.

Knowing them, part of the hospital might’ve very well been on fire right now. To say nothing of possible guards tied to chairs and locked away in the basement.

She was quite sure that had Liam been conscious, he would've joined the fray as well. 

As of now, there was the promise of a return from a couple nurses. An IV drip had been set up, and she'd been scrubbed with some kind of antibacterial gel. (She had to bite her tongue to not protest and do the prep herself.) She closed her eyes, waiting for the epidural to kick in. It was only when she heard Colleen's voice that she roused, only somewhat drowsy. She seemed to be talking with someone, presumably Spy, but Sophia couldn’t see him.

"Well, that was all taken care of," Colleen said. She bent beside Sophia's hospital bed. "Don't they usually have chairs in here, like a rockin’ chair or somethin’? Well anyways, I sure hope she don't pop 'em out like I did, he can't take many more knocks to the head at this rate. I never dropped him on his head as a kid, for the record, though his brothers did a time or two. Heck, Brian actually whacked him 'cross the face with a fryin' pan once." Just then, she noticed Sophia was awake. "Oh, good, she finally woke up." She reached over and squeezed Sophia's hand. "You're doin' great, honey. Just keep rememberin' to breathe, and pushin' when they say.”

"You weren't kidding about labor not being fun..." Sophia murmured. “Oh God, would someone just kill me already?”

Colleen chuckled a bit. "Tell me about it. Just be lucky that you don't got any twins in there. George and Luke about killed me, and that ain't even an exaggeration."

The doors pushed open, and Liam stumbled in with a bandage wrapped around his head and his cap awkwardly placed right on top.

"Oh, there you are." Colleen smirked a bit while watching him try his best not to fall over again. "It sounded like you banged yourself pretty hard when you fainted."

"For the record, I didn't faint," Liam said. “I passed out from lack of air.”

"You fainted, sweetie. Ain't no two ways about it.”

" _Passed out_! Faintin' is for girls, passin' out is what guys do. Guys like Tavish, though that usually takes a lot of Scrumpy, though for the record I wasn't drunk at all."

"This is going to take a while," Sophia said. “Maybe you should just go home.”

"You kickin' me out?" Liam asked, a tremor in his voice. "Like, 'on the couch for weeks because I got you here' kicked out? I didn't mean to faint― I mean, _pass out_!"

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous, I didn't even have to drag your body across the desert this time."

"I'll just go get some water," Colleen said when she noticed how tense things had gotten. She was much more adept at reading the atmosphere than her son ever was. "'Scuse me." With that, she left.

Liam gravitated towards the edge of Sophia's bed. He couldn't help but notice how much space she was taking up, which- unfortunately for him -meant that he couldn't just jump in and spoon her like he'd done the last time she'd been sick, and he'd gotten the cold just about the time she'd started to get well. He then looked over to the foot of her bed. Once again, there was not enough space for him to join her. His grip tightened on the bedsheets as he looked around, his anger finally starting to rise and making his angles more drawn.

"Shouldn't there be a nurse in here? Some kind of doctor, something? What the hell kind of crap hospital is this anyways―!"

Whenever she was hurt, when he felt powerless, he tended to take it out on whoever was nearby. He'd pick fights with men twice his size. Sometimes he'd win, and sometimes he'd come back with bloodied knuckles and new breaks and bruises for her to bandage up and fix.

"Liam, I just need you to do two things, all right?"

He jerked his head around and gave her his whole gaze. "I'm listenin'."

"First, I need you to steal some chairs. Bring them from the halls, bring them from somewhere else, I don't even care where you get them."

"―to beat the frickin' doctors senseless with, right?"

"No, because we're all going to be here for a while. These things take a lot of time."

“How much time we talkin’ here?”

“They usually take hours, but they can go on for days.”

"Hours? _Friggin' hours?_ Who do I have to beat up to make this painless and quick and not so bad for you?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't work that way, Liam."

He let out a long sigh. "Sure the teleporter thing can't work? I mean, if we try, we could install it---"

_"Just get the chairs."_

“Okay, okay!”

He then ran off to do as he was told. A few minutes later, he came back with a chair and new bruises, which she was fairly certain didn’t come from the furniture.

"I'll go get more in a sec."

"No, that's― enough." She cringed and he reached out to touch her.

"Look, I'm here through thick and thin. I’ll let you strangle me if you feel like it."

But before either of them could say any more, a couple nurses and a doctor came in behind them to check on her. As soon as he saw them, Liam wrapped his arms around the stolen chair and glared directly at them in a harsh manner. She knew that anybody who saw that look from him usually didn't live to tell the tale, but then she'd gotten used to this by now.

"He's staying," Sophia said.

"Damn right I'm stayin'!" Liam joined in. "So don't even try it."

The nurses just stared at each other in confusion while the doctor shrugged off the empty threat.

"She's strong, she'll kick this thing's ass!" Liam called out to the nurses while they left to get a few things. He then turned to face the love of his life. "I totally believe in you, Sophia. We should get you some awesome birthin' music like Black Sabbath! Wait, I have an idea. Why don't I track them down and have them play for you?"

"Not happening," Sophia said.

"Fine, though I totally bet ma threatened to rip someone's throat out."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

Liam was hopped up on so much caffeine that he couldn't sit still. Even as he held on to her hand, he kept jiggling his leg and looking around.

"How many cups of--- coffee did you have?"

"Three, maybe... or four, I can't remember. Is it really supposed to take this long? You― you think somethin' might be wrong?"

"According to your mother, this is normal, even fast."

He leaned in to kiss her hands, apologetic as he rested his forehead to her knuckles.

"I wish I could shoulder some of this pain for you. Hell, I wish I could just take it _all._ "

"I'll be okay. I've had my nose broken by an angry Russian woman and gotten shot plenty of times. I've even been stabbed and mauled by bread before. This is---- nothing.” She grimaced as another contraction came through her. "Okay, maybe not quite _nothing_ , but... I've got this."

"Still wish I could fast-forward through this part."

"Me too."

There was a rattling in the hall. Liam started to rise.

"Want me to go make 'em be quiet?"

"No. Just stay. That's all I want."

He squeezed her hand. "No worries. Nothin' could make me leave."

12:30 PM

Her daughter was born at noon sometime later, surrounded by worn out, caffeine fueled family. Her own parents had accidentally been left out in the rush of the night, but she figured it was probably for the best anyway. Her mother tolerated Colleen only a little better than Liam, and the last thing anybody needed right now was a hospital room fight, especially with Spy so close and so willing to take on hits for Colleen.

Her daughter screamed at the top of her lungs, her face utterly red and wrinkly, while the doctor held her. Held up to the light, she was surprisingly tiny. She sure hadn’t felt that way coming out. Liam looked taken aback when she was placed in his arms. He hesitantly reached out to brush his fingers over her own.

"She's so small and so… fragile," he said. “I feel like I could drop her any second.” His lower lip trembled as he brushed his thumb over her forehead ever so lightly.

"The last thing you need to be doin' is droppin' your baby on her head," Colleen said. “Hand her over, I got plenty of experience holdin' babies.”

"No, I got her." He pulled the blanket more snugly around his daughter. "I think I'm getting the hang of it. It's just hard to take in, is all. I'm a father now. Hey, little girl. Welcome to the world. It's goin' to be real great, though your ma says we can't play ball for a while yet."

"At least a few months," Sophia interjected.

"She's all ours now," Liam said, his voice full of wonder. "All those times I said 'just you wait until you go runnin' with me' and now it's finally here… she's here."

"Any runnin' will be a few years off yet," Colleen said.

The child let out a particularly loud shriek.

"Aww, she's screamin' almost as loud as Liam did back then." Colleen bent to brush her hand over the child's cheek. "At least she won't break the windows."

"That's a joke and you know it. Right, ma? It's nothin' but a joke, right?"

"Sweetie, with how many windows you broke, it ain't much of one."

"The windows had it comin'."

"By the way, you got a name for her? Don't tell me you forgot, Liam."

"Me? No, I guess we never did find somethin' to call her. Nothin' really stuck."

As much as they'd discussed names, nothing had truly seemed fitting. And now with their child right here, nothing seemed deep enough for the moment.

"Though, the truth was… I always had an idea. Sophia, can you trust me on this?"

"Well, I trusted you with actually making and having the child. I think I can trust you with picking out the name. Just don't call her anything too silly, that's all I ask.”

"Hey, ma… c'mere!" Liam called out loudly enough to echo in the small room.

Colleen came in a little closer. Despite everything, not a hair was out of place. She had to use industrial-level hairspray, which Sophia could’ve sworn was infused with Australium.

"You never did get to name any girls, so you name this one. That's what I want."

"Really? You'd do that? I guess you ain't so bad after all." Colleen ruffled her son's hair.

"Ma, I'm _totally_ bad," Liam protested.

"Whatever you say, sweetie," Colleen said. “Hand her over a bit. I gotta get a look at her.”

Liam reluctantly let his mother take her from his hands.

"The doctor lied to me, you know. Said little Liam here was going to be a girl and it turned out he was a boy. I remember ma and I were so devastated at the time. I couldn’t believe I went out and bought all pink for nothing, though of course I couldn't just take them back. I paid good money on those. You had the cutest little pink onesies with clouds. His brothers never let him live it down, of course. Poor little shit."

"Maaa, come on," Liam whined.

"I've seen the pictures," Sophia said. “You were a pretty cute baby.”

Colleen had wasted no time in showing her every embarrassing photo she owned, from the bunny onesies to the cowboy hats and his little pink clothes.

"Ehh, it's just a color. Don't change anythin'."

"How about Alice, just like the books you used to love, huh? He always loved the white rabbit, probably reminded him of himself. Back then, I had time to read to him. He was such a troublesome kid. He'd wake me up callin' for water and more stories and another glass of water, then of course he had to take another leak. He was an expert at fightin' bedtime, that's for sure. It'd take hours to get him to sleep."

"Alice?” Sophia asked, testing the name on her tongue. “Hmm… I like the sound of that. Alice Colleen Dempsey..."

"You picked out a name after all," Liam said, proud of the fact that she'd been named after his mother in some way.

"Aw jeez, I'm goin' to wreck my make-up with all this cryin'," Colleen said. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "What can I say? I always cry at weddin's and when babies are born. Always have, always will."

Alice let out another throaty scream, loud enough that Sophia was surprised the glass stayed intact.

"Goin' to need ear plugs for that one. Trust me, Liam cried for two years straight."

"Only two?" Spy asked. “Oh, chére, he _never_ stopped crying.” He pulled off his doctor's mask and stepped out from the side― she hadn't even realized he'd been infiltrating at the time, though she should've guessed.

"Ahahahaha, shut up," Liam said. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you? Fuck off.”

"Hey, be good or I'll send you both to time out," Colleen said without looking up. She started to rock Alice, who quieted slightly as she started to speak softly to her.

"You makin' your battle cry already, baby girl? I'm the one who should be screamin' that Liam went and made me a grandmother."

"Hey, I wasn't the only one who made you a grandmother!" Liam protested.

"No one will believe someone so young as you could be a grandmother," Spy said. “They'll assume he was adopted. Granted, they already assume that.”

"I'll have you adopt my fist to your face once we get out of here. I'll even go sign the paperwork and everythin'.”

"You'll _both_ be up for adoption if you don't behave," Colleen said.

Liam and Spy narrowed their eyes at each other, but said nothing more. Anything they could've said was drowned out by Alice's shrieks anyway.

"I've already got some ear plugs for you… but I'm bettin' you'll need to buy some for the rest of the apartment buildin'," Colleen said.

All of a sudden, the camera flashed and caught the first moment together of Sophia, Liam, Colleen and the new ruddy and wrapped up addition to the family. As Sophia would later come to remember in retrospect, it was a moment well spent.

 _"Surprise,"_ Spy said.

December 24th, 1977

She woke late, an early Smissmass gift from Colleen and the rest of her in-laws. She was used to sleep deprivation due to her work; she'd even woken up due to screaming and crying more than once, though it was usually from grown drunken men getting in some fight again, not her daughter.

She'd only gotten back from the hospital days before. The extent of the decoration was three stockings stuck to the wall near the television, which was the closest they had to a mantelpiece in their small apartment. Each stocking was well worn, with the brocade and felt fraying. They were secondhand mementos from his past. On each smaller one, _Liam_ was crossed out to make way for _Alice_ and _Sophie._

The only tree that could fit in their apartment were the tiny and fake variety, and the last thing she needed was a fire hazard with both Tavish and Jane as constant visitors in their apartment.

But Liam had gone and bought a little Santa hat for Alice and one for himself. He'd put mistletoe in strategic areas, and thrown a small amount of tinsel about the house, a haphazard, sparkling surprise which she would find hidden away in cupboards and hanging off her coat, like a feather boa.

Alice greedily suckled at the bottle with surprising strength.

"I think she's eatin' at a third grade level, at least," Liam said with pride. "I think she'd hit me if I tried to take it away. Just a complete swing. Wow, she is goin' to town on this bottle."

"It'll still be a few more months before that, but I wouldn't be surprised," Sophia said wearily.

"Okay, now it's time for the burpin'!"

Liam patted her on the back, shifting from side to side. Liam's eyes widened as she let out a truly monstrous, wall rattling burp.

"This kid's got potential. As soon as she's old enough, I'm goin' to teach her how to burp the alphabet," Liam said.

"My parents will be so thrilled," she said flatly.

"All the better," Liam said.

A stack of presents wrapped in shiny red paper were in a corner. Others were marked with her name, a surprising amount, considering that Liam routinely couldn't bring himself to wait that long to give her gifts, so that she often got 'birthday' and 'Smissmiss' gifts months in advance.

"I don't know if that stack back there counts as Smissmas or birthday," he said. “We didn't exactly get to celebrate in the hospital.”

"It hardly matters," Sophia said. “With her birthday this close, it'd likely be combined.”

"Like hell we are. Even if they're only little more than a week apart, there's no way my baby girl is going to have to skimp out on gettin' presents. Hell, I'll loan her my birthday if she needs some in the middle of the year. Every day is goin' to be presents. I didn't get a lot as a kid. And she ain't ever goin' to go through that. She ain't ever goin' to wonder what her dad was like, or wake up on Smissmass mornin' and know there will be nothin' there."

"I'd be more worried that she'd get lost in the sea of presents, to be quite honest. We wouldn't be able to fit that much in this apartment, though… are you going to buy her a storage unit to keep all her things in?"

"No, I'm goin' to get _five_ storage units and fill them until they're burstin' to the seams." Liam sat down on the couch near Sophia and started bouncing Alice on his knee.

"Only five?" Sophia asked dryly.

"You're right. Ten would be much better. Or maybe I'll just make it easy and buy a whole storage unit place. They probably go for under a million. I could even make some bucks on the side."

"'Dempsey's storage. We store things discreetly and don't touch my daughter's stuff.'”

"See, you already got us a slogan. You run the books, I bring my charm, natural good looks and smooth talkin', and we'll have ourselves a real fine place!"

"Special extra on body disposal."

"Okay, that was so awesome, I need a high-five. We always can count on you, the best of the buryin' brigade. Those mafia goons ain't got nothin' on you."

He leaned in for a kiss as she high-fived him. Liam always snuck in kisses whenever he could.

 _It's A Wonderful Life_ was on low in the background. Alice was on the verge of sleep, and so was she.

"Colleen isn't waiting for us, is she? I feel like I could sleep until New Year's Eve.”

"Go on. The Dempsey family has got you covered."

She rested her head against him.

"You goin' to sleep right there?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"With luck, Alice will sleep a whole ten minutes this time. I swear, she's always hungry."

She nestled close to him. He kept whispering to Alice. It mixed with the sound of the show _whenever a bell rings, an angel gets their wings_ and the sounds of her family breathing.

Even as exhausted as she was, there was a joy to the mundane times spent with those she loved.

December 31st, 1977.

Technically, she wouldn't start work again for a few months. However, Bidwell had sent her a panicked call, and as usual, she had answered. Three stories up, the only noise was the shuffling of her paperwork. The windows were covered in a lacework of frost, but just through them she could see the city lights, and all the other people in the city who were out spending time with friends and loved ones.

She massaged the back of her neck, and tried to focus again on the paperwork for this latest nightmare. The clock ticked down. It'd be the first time in years that she hadn't had a kiss lined right up for the countdown of seconds to the end of year.

He'd promised her that she'd never spend New Year’s Eve― or any other night ―lonely, not if he had anything to do about it.

There was an insistent tapping at the windowpane.

"It must be a pigeon," she said.

She turned back to her work, only to have the tapping start up more desperately. She rose and opened the window.

"Shoo---- _Liam?_ "

She'd expected a large ball of bird fluff, not her husband hanging from the windowsill, inches away from slipping and falling to his death.

"Do me a solid and help me out here?" Liam asked. “Unless you wanna clean me up from the pavement.” By now, he was just barely hanging on by his fingernails. She swiftly leaned out into the cold and gripped his wrists.

"That is _not_ how I want to spend New Year's Eve!"

Sophia helped to pull him the rest of the way, a burst of icy air and snow fluttering in behind him.  
There was snow in his hair, and frost encrusting his eyebrows and lashes. His skin was so cold that he should be shuddering, but all he looked was happy as he entwined his chilled fingers with hers.

"Did you borrow Jane's rocket launcher and rocket jump up here? You could've blown your legs off!"

"Naw, I climbed up like I was Spider-Man. Somebody thought the stairs meant party time, and there was a massive Conga overload. I could've punched them, but it would've been too late, so I went the superhero route."

"That doesn't make it better! Wait--- what happened ---Is Alice okay?"

"Yeah, somethin' is wrong: you were over here. It's New Year's Eve, you're the only person I wanna spend this with."

In the hallway outside the room, she heard the sound of shouts and a countdown. Originally, the office party had been a few levels down, but apparently they'd gotten drunk enough for the party to shift higher.

"Come on, beautiful, let's ring in this new year with style," he said.

He leaned in for a kiss. His chapped lips were warmed from the cold. She laced her arms about his shoulders, the seconds passing into nineteen seventy-eight. For those moments, it'd felt like she was falling back into old habits. Falling asleep at her desk, being cut from any attachment. But just as he had many times before, Liam would go any length to reach her.

"You ran through the Boston winter without a coat, and climbed up the side of an icy building without even any gloves--"

"You make it sound like it's hard," Liam said.

"Dammit, Liam. I _need_ you, preferably alive. Could you cut down on the heroics, Spider-Man? I'd rather not have to spend the new year burying the pieces of you.”

"Can you blame me? It's been a whole hour since I kissed you," he said. He pulled her into another kiss. This one was lingering. His skin had begun to warm, just so slightly, under her touch. It was a burst of remembrance, a tingle of love and every reason why she'd chose him.

But kissing him was not quite so magical that it could beat back the Boston winter.

"Okay, I've got to close that window," she said. She pulled herself up from the floor shut out the cold night of the new year.

She rested her hand against his cold cheek.

"In the scale of stupidest brave things you've done, this ranks pretty high, though heavy on the stupid," she said.

He took her hands. He hadn't even bothered to put gloves on, let alone a coat.

"Then I must've done good, to unseat all the rest," Liam said.

"The year's lookin' great already. Just imagine...three hundred and sixty-five days with you and my baby. I really am the luckiest guy on the friggin' planet. The handsomest, too," he said.

"One thing, though. I definitely need some kisses. I ain't been kissed for an entire year! I'm dyin' over here!"

He always said that. She'd find scribbled notes in her purse, phone calls, and a million little reminders of his affection.

"Do you have any resolutions this year?" Sophia said.

"Well, if I become anymore awesome, I'm goin' to break somethin'. What about you? You got any plans? I gotta say, you're pretty much perfect as is."

"Since you're obviously going to do something stupid like play Spider-Man, I'm going to hire some interns to do paperwork emergencies like this," she said.

"Murder interns? Awesome! I love those guys! And now I'll love them twice as much, since they're givin' me my wife back!"

Liam paused at the word and smiled, like he was curled in a soft blanket, or had just sunk into a warm bath. Just the reminder that she was married to him would make him go dreamy-eyed and distant, caught in some reverie of his own making.

"I'm glad you came. Honestly..I was really lonely and regretting my choice," she said. She pushed a strand of dark hair behind her hair awkwardly.

"I bet you got it all down pat. Let's go back home, Soph. I can think of dozens of ways to christen this new year, and only like half of them are naughty," Liam said.

She laughed. "Only half? You must be slipping. I know years when that number would've been completely on the frisky side."

"I'm a dad now, so you gotta sneak in that baby snugglin'. She's probably in bed now, all curled up." Liam smiled to himself.

She took one last look at the papers.

"Let me just put these back. I don't want any of the office workers barfing on my desk, or god forbid, screwing on it. You never know with Mann Co.. parties. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things I've walked into. Usually in my office, too," she said.

"Fuckin' wild place," Liam said. He helped her lift the rest of the folders, and they stuffed them in the U part of the thick, fireproof filing cabinet.

"You know, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put 'Me' and 'U' together," Liam said.

"Me isn't a letter. Your awful pick up lines aren't even making sense. They're like post-modern satire on pick up lines-- so bad they turn into something brilliant," Sophia said.

"All I'm hearin' is that I'm brilliant, you adore me, and you want me to carry you the whole way back," Liam said.

She shook her head and laughed. "Let's go home, Mr. Dempsey. We've got a new year to finish ringing in."

He swept her up, just as he said he would, and carried her into the night. Liam never went halfway on romantic gestures.

"You know home is at least five miles away, right?"

"I can make it, I knew all that exercise would come in handy."

"You know, we've never made out in a cab on New Year's Day."

"Holy shit, you're a friggin' genius, put it on the list! That's definitely my resolution for the year."

"Your only one?"

"Nah, just my first."

He waved down a cab surprisingly fast, considering the hour. They ducked in. "Hey, pally, I need to go down to the South end, and hurry."

"Everythin' all right?" the cabbie asked.

"Everythin's great! We're goin' straight home! I stole her from work and everythin'."

Liam gave the directions and pulled at her collar. Nestled together, his skin began to warm under her lips. He brushed the snow from her hand, fingers tangled in dark strands. She laughed between kisses, their voices low in the new morning.

"Twenty kisses already, and it ain't even an hour in," Liam said. “It's goin' to be a good year. Of course, it always is with you.”

The snow came down harder outside, an orange glow of streetlights in the distance. Sometimes she'd see them from the corner of her eyes, lights out far, and little shining stars. So much possibility and warmth was stretched before her. Visions of all the flowers and kisses and dancing moments spent together. Colleen's house was minutes away, but she was already home.


End file.
